


Impossible To Play

by vforvesta



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Epilogue, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 22:39:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9145357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vforvesta/pseuds/vforvesta
Summary: This short series is based off Clark Powell's "Symphony Impossible To Play", a full four-movement piece that's been touted as one of the best pieces of Homestuck music in its already impressive discography.The series serves as an epilogue post-canon. The first movement, "Overture", was used in ACT 7 to end Homestuck. The following three movements, "Sarabande", "Serenade" and "Anthem" are the inspiration and basis for this series.Spoilers abound for the entirety of Homestuck.





	1. Sarabande

  
“We did it,” Rose whispered.

The sky mirrored the planet; barren and hollow and full of latent potential. The remnants of a lush forest all hush and graying green. Moulting brown and a tangle of overgrowth. It was so surreal to finally be back in this way.

Despite her earlier withdrawn reluctance, Terezi spared no hesitation. She dashed forth, throwing herself on the floor, sniffing vigorously as though the scents would escape her. She rolled and cackled, getting the grime on her battered, war-torn clothes. Her joy interrupted the silence, leading to a cascade of relief and celebration.

All were afraid to voice out their thoughts, afraid to jinx it, ruin it. That maybe something would happen. After all they’d gone through, dying and watching loved ones die. Hurting and aching and going through trials no teenager should ever have to go to. Shouldering the burden of the impossible and getting fucked by reality in every configuration possible. Dragging themselves screaming through timelines and universes and resetting god knows how many times. Only to have their asses kicked and knowing that their asses would be kicked and just so much loss. How does one deal with so much loss? But it was over.

They did it.

“Race ya!"

John took off to the skies, his natural element, his body at home in the clouds. He conjured up a feathery breeze for them to frolic in, uplifting and playful. Dave kicked off as well, joining his friend in flight.

“HEY. MAYBE YOU BLITHERING IDIOTS DIDN’T GET THE MEMO AFTER THE BILLIONTH TIME, BUT IF YOU’VE FORGOTTEN, THERE ARE SOME OF US WHO CAN’T FLY!"

"Don’t be such a crab, Karkat. Here, I’ll help you!"

Jade lifted Karkat with a swish of her finger, sending him rocketing into the sky.

Karkat screamed as he ascended. "PUT ME DOWN!"

"As you wish~” Jade giggled, as she withdrew her enchantment, letting Karkat fall, limbs flailing as he thundered to the ground. He thought this would be the stupid way it would end for him, hating himself every second of the way, only for him to be caught.

“Sup,” Dave said, deadpan, even as Karkat thrashed in his arms.

“HOPY SHIT. WHA-? WEREN’T YOU JUST UP THERE."

“Shenanigans,” Dave chuckled, as Jade hooted with laughter.

Jane tugged on her father’s sleeve. “Dad, let’s go!” The middle aged man seemed reluctant, holding his hat firmer to his head.

"Come on ol’ man!" Roxy piped up, while scooping Calliope herself. Dirk gave him an affirming pat on the shoulder before he took off with Jake. Seeing his daughter’s earnest eyes and the whoops of joy coming from the youth, he supposed he could have fun as well.

After rolling up his sleeves and doffing his hat, he let his daughter take him upwards.

They flew in pairs, or trios. John whizzed around, playing tag with the boys. The girls were simply content to float; Kanaya and Rose in each other’s embrace, Roxy assuring Calliope as the former took the latter on her maiden flight.

The carapaces were content to stay grounded, especially the Mendicant. After three years of ceaseless flight, it was good to feel the soil under her feet.

Tossing and turning in the sky never felt so good - no, they've never had the freedom to try it out before. Just having fun, without all the care in Paradox Space. They won. This was a victory.

"Hey," Jade marveled, pointing at the earth beneath them. They all faced downwards, watching the world splayed out for them to see.

"Woah," Dave breathed. He wanted to say more, but a lump was stuck in his throat. John gave him a pat, while sprinkles of sniffs and sobs could be heard.

Rose wiped away a tear. "It all seems so… small from up here. I know it sounds weird given we've flown about our planets and all but… this is Earth. I thought I'd never see this again. I’d already resigned myself to never seeing this ever again but now-" 

Kanaya held on to her tight. "I know. It's okay, let it all out." Rose collapsed into her arms, rambling on and on to no one in particular while Kanaya rubbed her back. "It's a beautiful planet."

Similar sentiments were shared throughout. Roxy gasped at every little detail, never having seen beyond her cramped abode and neighbourhood. Jake took turns with Jane to see how their world had changed, for better or worse. Dirk pointed out to Dave where his post-scratch counterpart had tread, imagining the escapades and battles and realized potential that took place. On this very land.

Jade framed the landscape with her fingers, hair bobbing in the wind.

"It's not perfect, but it's ours now."

Theirs to inherit. Theirs to inhabit. Theirs to rebuild. 

* * *

  
John kicked up grass, finding a sort of anchor after executing giddying sky-pirouettes. Rose joined him by his side.

"You know, we've never really talked. Not like this."

"Mm," John shrugged, still distracted by the way the wind swirled around his head, the way the rhythm of the breeze synchronized with his own breath.

"We were just a bunch of silly kids who met online. I was this insufferable girl with a loquacious vocabulary, and you were this kid so earnest that I took it that you had to be real, or the greatest pranking master in the universe."

John's head snapped around. "Why not both?" he grinned.

"Because you're such a goofball," Rose punched his shoulder, and John tilted over and stumbled, ever the good sport. They chuckled rather awkwardly, before settling back into silence, the crunch of their footsteps peppering the natural ambience.

"And... I had so many things I had wanted to talk to you about, in person. Now we have until eternity and... I don't know where to begin."

"Welllll," John started, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets. "I can always wait. It's been so long, I'm sure a day or two wouldn't hurt."

Rose couldn't help but soften into a smile. "You're too nice, John. Kindness and optimism have always been your most endearing traits, even after the fuck load of shit we had to endure."

"That was a whole bunch of stuff we did, huh," John winced. "Even though it just happened, lots of it feel a universe away, like a dream."

"Well, I hope it isn't," Rose sighed. "It would suck if I woke back up in my house the next day to find that it all hasn't been real. It was tough, but this? This is worth it."

John pondered for a while, staring up at the sky before asking. "So what do you think comes next?"

"We fuck around, obviously," Rose said, before covering her mouth and grinning, catching her own innuendo. "But after that, we start restoring civilization, however we can?"

John counted off his fingers. "There's stuff to build, and species to restore, I guess. Oh um, wow. I never actually thought of that. Even though I kinda already knew about it," he blushed.

Rose gave him a knowing look. "I'm sure we have the technology and skill such that nobody needs to get pregnant here. I mean, we're only sixteen and I doubt any of us would want to. Trolls have it easy in this regard - their Matriob will do all the work for them, at least for the current generation."

There was a bucket joke or two thrown in there as they continued their stroll though the woods, the world around them at leisure.

"Have you... ever thought about it?"

"About?" Rose asked.

"You know," John said. "Karkat's stupid shipping grid. Boy, how that turned out." 

Silence reigned for a golden moment, before Rose burst out laughing.

"Pfff..! Hahaha!"

John cringed, facing away from her. "Fuck."

Rose chased after him, holding his arm now. "I'm sorry! It's just... Oh no this brings back so many embarrassing memories..!"

"Well..." John smiled. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"It's fine..! It's alright I'm just-" Rose had to catch her breath. "I mean, yeah, sure. I thought about it. Not much though, given that I was quickly enamoured and my heart betrothed. Also at how ludicrous it seemed - still seems."

John took that as his cue to air his own thoughts. "It was stupid, yeah. But I didn't really mind, if that was what needed to be done, I guess. Marrying you in a way, was always weird I guess. Because you were a really good friend and I never thought about you in that way! And... I don't know... Of course it mattered what you thought about it! And clearly we've not gone down that route - which is okay! I'm really happy for you and Kanaya. But I've been curious about what... might've been, you know?"

Rose still held on to his arm as they walked, side by side. "Do you think," John started. "That there's a doomed timeline somewhere where we might be together?"

"Maybe," Rose answered, "Most probably it exists, given the probability of it all." Her answer was clinical. "I don't pity that version of me though."

"You know," John said. "I expected some kind of a clever comeback from you."

"Between you and I, John, my acerbic wit is only sharp enough a blade against blasphemous heathens who threaten us. But... did you ever want it?"

"Want what?"

Rose blew at a tuft of her fringe. "Want to passionately hold hands with me against the romantic backdrop of Skaia disintegrating into a transcendent rainbow universe frog. I would hate to be a disappointment."

John grinned, some semblance of his sassy best friend resurfacing. "It'd be cool, I guess."

"No, as in. Was it ever a conscious desire driven through no other external stimulus or necessity whatsoever?"

"Erm..." John frowned. "I'm not sure..? Probably no. Yeah... I don't think so. Did you?"

Rose stared at the gravel path. "I thought about it, and you really couldn't do worse. I mean... you're a great guy, John. But you're just not my type. Barring the whole fact that you know. I’m gay. But if I really, really had to? Like not just we're the only two humans left ever but more like by some temporal hijinks of the Paradox Space Conspiracy, I had to end up with you... it wouldn't have been bad. In fact I think it might've been rather enjoyable."

"Oh," John said, all his emotions summed up in that singular word. Then his brow unfurled, and his features softened as he turned to her. "Thanks, Rose."

"Don't mention it... Ah, what am I even talking about hahaha. Just airing out all my..." she paused for a while, her grip on John's arm tightening then loosening with her breath. "Jasprose was right, I suppose. It is kind of cathartic, letting it out. Thank you for listening, John."

John held his kind smile. "No problem."

Gravel gave way to grass and loamy soil as they entered a clearing, skyscraper trees still providing ample shade. Patches of gold lit up the ground, hummingbirds flitting from tree to tree.

"It would be perfect for Jade to grow a garden here," Rose said, crouching low to examine the soil, her free hand ensuring she didn't stain her dress.

John agreed, wonder struck at the unique beauty of his home planet. No palette the Medium could produce quite matched the Earth in both diversity and harmony.

"Hey, John," Rose said, looking up at him. "Dance with me."

"Huh?" he replied, stumped at the sudden request.

"Don't you think this is a perfect backdrop for a little waltz? I just thought... I've never danced before and..."

John extended his hand. "Sure, Rose," he grinned. "Platonically, I guess?"

"Of course," Rose smiled, as she took his hand. 

They fidgeted, all the possible permutations of hand placement racing through John's head but nothing substantiative coming up. His mind drew a blank as Rose instructed him, ever patient.

"I believe your right goes around my waist, and mine goes on your shoulder."

"Oh, okay," John blushed. He'd held girls' hands before, but never around their waists.

Golden orange and sky blue, they danced among a lush green, simple movements without flair and flurry. The two of them swayed, robes bristling in the breeze and swishing through the grass. John lifted the humid wind, letting the streams of air curl around them, cooling the both of them down and gently wiping beads of perspiration from Rose’s face.

Rose cringed, wordless as John accidentally stepped on her toe. John hopped off, now floating inches off the ground as he pleaded sorry countless times, only for Rose to tug him back down to earth. They found their footing, and started again.

It was like a waltz, the way they danced. Formal yet mildly playful, and in triple meter, methodically counting each step. One, two three; one two three; one two three. John giving his fullest concentration to the task, not wanting to slip up anymore. 

Now it was Rose’s turn to trip, stumbling on John’s foot but he managed to save it, somehow executing a graceful twirl as they caught each other, before they burst out laughing. Rose took John by the hips, throwing him up into the air, and then she joined him, his windsock hauling her as they danced in the wind.

They’ve never managed to have such effortless, resplendent fun. Through the hardest years of their adolescence, they’ve never managed to just, let it out. Be kids. The facade would always break and their sense of inner wonder would always seep through - because at heart, they were all just silly, broken beings. But they’ve never managed to be so free, like this. The expectation of heroes and gods and saviours got to them, the burden placed heavy on their backs.

Now it was just them. Sixteen year olds with a brave new world all to themselves.

Rose seemed to see John for the first time. Not just a mythical, fictional character who never broke his goofy facade. But an earnest kid who only ever wanted good friends and a simple life, having fun watching movies or playing games or executing the most dastardly pranks. What you saw was what you got, except much, much more. A heart full of kindness. A smile that formed a foundation of trust. A sturdy young man who had learned to bear the responsibility of others, a strong, reliable back built to last.

And John saw Rose as well. Not just a shadow of Roxy, more prim and proper. Not just reserved, sarcastic, shelled up and forming barricades of incomprehensible words to protect herself. Rose was just as vulnerable as everyone else, but she was working on it. Prone to paranoia, but learning how to trust. She found more of herself in her friends everyday, and found how she was influencing others as well. And she took this exchange humbly, acting responsibly and guiding thoughtfully. She was content letting others take centre stage, but she could take matters in her own hands if needed. She had grown to be flexible and resilient and so much more.

In that moment, the both of them reached across the veil, empathy and mutual understanding compounded by kindness allowing them to for just a moment, glimpse into each other’s souls. And they could feel it. The tingling yet peaceful sensation as they touched.

The moment lasted a split second, or perhaps and eternity. But when the both of them touched the ground, something in them had changed. Something between them. Something had changed for the better.

Rose immediately burst out, laughing and crying all out once.

“Ahaha! We're such an awkward mess!

She squatted, shielding her face as John held her by the shoulders from behind, also crouching. They nestled into that position for some time, Rose’s body rising and falling like undulating waves, a steady rhythm that John got accustomed to. It jarred him when Rose finally tapped him on his thigh, and the both of them stood.

“Hey where’s Terezi?” John whistled, not-so-subtly doing a horrible job of changing the topic. “I haven’t seen her since."

“She probably got lost,” Rose played along, straightening up. She cleaned up her smudged makeup, adding a flourish of foundation that made her face brighter. As if on cue, others could be heard in the distance, another couple or group playing around. It was time to wrap things up.

John looked around, as though he could catch a faint glimmer of teal amidst the vast green. "Can you point me in the direction where I could find her? I just wanna check on her, in case something came up."

"Sure thing, John,” Rose replied, business-like, before the answer came to her, and she directed John.

"Thank you Rose,” John smiled, sheepish but glowing. “It was fun. Catching up and stepping on each other's feet and all."

Thank you too, John,” Rose grinned, arms crossed. "I really enjoyed myself."

John flashed her one last toothy smile, before he left, taking to the skies. When he looked back, Rose was a orange speck, next to Dirk while Jake waited patiently by his side. They were no doubt exchanging a verbose tete-a-tete, and enjoying every second of it. As Roxy would say, they were reflections of each other.

It wasn’t even two minutes when John chanced upon Terezi, sitting in the shade of a tree, playing with a rock and stick in each hand. She didn’t even look up as John engaged her.

“L34V3 M3 4LON3, N3RD,” she said before John could even open his mouth.

“You alright, Terezi?"

“1F 1 S4Y NO, W1LL YOU K1NDLY GO 4W4Y?” She smashed the rock against the stick, snapping the fragile twig.

"Huh,” John said. “That’s… honest."

Terezi sighed, her signature sigh for losers who never got it. “1’M NOT OK4Y, 4ND 1 JUST N33D SOM3 T1M3 4LON3. SO C4N YOU JUST SCR4M, YOU DW33B."

“Oh…okay,” John winced, before he flew up above.

Terezi had chosen a rather secluded spot, but nobody could go really far in the time they’d been on Earth. She couldn’t fly, for one. But neither could any of the trolls, and John spotted Karkat in close proximity. He made his way to his partner in crime.

“HOLY FUCK,” Karkat threw his hands up when John tapped him on the shoulder. “JOHN. DON’T DO THAT AGAIN. EVER. FUCK."

“Sorry Karkat,” John giggled. Dave and Jade were hanging out with the crabby troll as well, and gave John a wave before continuing to talk amongst themselves.

“SO. WHAT’S UP,” Karkat groaned. “UNLESS YOU CAME OVER ALL THE WAY TO PROD ME ON MY ‘SHOULDER’ TO TELL ME ‘HEY HI KARKAT HAVING A NICE DAY?’ WELL I AM HAVING A VERY NICE DAY THANK YOU AND I WOULD LIKE TO CONTINUE IF YOU HAVE NOTHING IMPORTANT-"

“It’s Terezi,” John said. “I’m… I’m not sure how she’s holding up. She seems… upset."

Karkat remained dispassionate, albeit hiding his slight concern. “WELL. VRISKA’S NOWHERE TO BE SEEN. SO THERE’S THAT."

"Yeah… but I don’t really wanna intrude on her,” John shrugged. "I hardly know her, even though she sent me on her crazy quest… I think another troll should deal with this, yeah? Since I don’t wanna fuck it up further without all the cultural nuance I obviously don’t possess…"

“FUCK. OKAY OKAY I’LL DO IT. SHE’S MY FRIEND TOO,” Karkat said. “GIVE ME A BIT, THE BOTH OF YOU,” he told Dave and Jade, marching two steps, before pausing and turning back around. “ACTUALLY MAYBE A RELATIVE AMOUNT MORE THAN A BIT GIVEN HOW MESSY THESE FEELS MIGHT BE."

“Yours or hers?” Dave teased. Jade kicked him in the shin as Dave mocked-reeled from the fake-pain.

“HA. HA. VERY FUNNY, STRIDER,” Karkat said, before heading off in the direction John pointed him.

Terezi was still loafing around, now drawing things in the dirt with the chipped away rock. Upon closer inspection, she was sketching out horrible drawings of her and her three new ‘friends’: Stick, Tree, and Dirt. It also stated that she killed her friend, Stick, brutally murdered by stabbing(???) a rock through her(???) midsection. Karkat squinted. Clearly not her airing out some unresolved problems.

“HEY,” he said, sitting down beside her, crossed legged. “CARE TO TELL ME WHAT’S UP?"

“NOT YOU TOO, K4RCR4B,” Terezi moaned. “C4N’T YOU S33 1’M TRY1NG TO M4K3 SOM3 N3W FR13NDS 1N 4 N3W L4ND? SP1C3 TH1NGS UP 4 L1TTL3."

Karkat frowned. “THAT IS NOT DISTURBING IN ANY WAY.” He distanced himself a little, but leaned forward, giving her space but at the same time maintaining the stance of a concerned friend. "COME ON, YOU KNOW YOU CAN TELL ME ANYTHING."

Terezi scoffed, turning her back to Karkat. “TH4NKS BUT NO TH4NKS."

She didn’t seem to adjust to paradise too well. Karkat found it troubling that she had shifted mood so quickly, even if he understood why.

“OKAY,” he said. “MAYBE YOU DON’T HAVE TO TELL ME. BUT MAYBE ER. YOUR NEW FRIEND TREE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHAT’S UP? DON’T FRIENDS TELL EACH OTHER THINGS AND STUFF."

He could see Terezi react a little, although what expression she wore he could only guess.

“SO I’LL GET UP AND GO. BUT MAYBE TREE AND SOIL WOULD LIKE TO GET TO KNOW YOU BETTER. I’M PRETTY SURE THAT IF THEY’RE YOUR FRIENDS THEY CARE FOR YOU, AND-"

“YOU W4NN4 KNOW SO B4D? F1N3! 1 H4T3 H3R! 1 H4T3 H3R B3C4US3 SH3’S CONST4NTLY PULL1NG TH1S 4ND 1 DON’T KNOW WH1CH 1S B3TT3R. H3R COM1NG B4CK OR NOT? I DON’T 3V3N FUCK1NG KNOW 1’M SO CONFUS3D!"

“HEY HEY."

Karkat was still forceful even as he lowered down his volume. “IT’S OKAY. YOU CAN LET IT ALL OUT. I’M HERE TO LISTEN-"

“BUT 1T’S NOT JUST TH4T. L1K3 Y34H 1 DO M1SS H3R BUT FUCK DON’T W3 4LL? 1’M JUST SO CONFL1CT3D OV3R 4LL TH1S. 1 DOWNLO4D3D TH3 M3MOR13S OF L1K3 4 G4J1LL1ON FUCK1NG GHOSTS B3FOR3 MY B4TTL3 W1TH LORD J4CK-"

“WHAT-"

“4ND 1 F1N4LLY M4N4G3D TO SOM3WH4T M33T TH3 OTH3R M3 OR 4T L34ST UND3RST4ND H3R 4ND SH3 W4S TH3 ON3 WHO S4CR1F1C3D 3V3RYTH1NG 4ND D1D 4LL TH3 WORK 4ND DO3SN’T SH3 D3S3RV3 TH1S H4PPY 3ND1NG MOR3 TH4N M3? BUT WHY DO3S TH1S V1CTORY S33M SO HOLLOW? 1T’S NOT 3V3N H4LF 4S GLOR1OUS 4S TH3 L4ST T1M3-

“WOAH SLOW DOWN, DRAGON,” Karkat reigned her in. “I’M SURE THAT WHEREVER SHE IS, SHE’S IN A PRETTY GOOD PLACE."

“Y34H SH3 1S,” Terezi croaked, voice raw. “SH3’S R3CONC1L3D W1TH TH3 VR1SK4 SH3 K1LL3D-"

Karkat punched both hands into the air with joy. “THEN THAT SETTLES IT! SHE GOT HER HAPPY ENDING, AND NOW YOU TOO DESERVE YOUR OWN-"

“BUT 1T DO3SN’T F33L L1K3 4N 3ND1NG!"

The silence that ensued was one of the most painful Karkat had to endure. Watching the teal tears that trickled behind Terezi’s poker facade, her red glasses, watching her struggle to keep it together, fists clenched with clumps of dirt between her digits.

She gulped down her pain, swallowing everything she had tried to keep in, before letting it all out, with the air as she gasped.

“1 4BSORB3D 4LL OF TH31R SUFF3R1NG 4ND H4RDSH1P 4ND W4TCH3D 4ND UND3RSTOOD 4LL OF TH3 S4CR1F1C3S TH3Y M4D3 TH3Y W3R3 4LL D34D K4RK4T, 3V3N TH3 ON3S TH4T W3R3 SUPPOS3DLY R3V1V3D TH3Y 4LL L3FT 4 GHOST 4ND-"

She left herself winded, sweating and staring at the ground, fighting against the invisible demons that plagued her. Karkat could do nothing but watch.

"1 JUST C4N’T B3L13V3 1T’S OV3R. 1T F33LS L1K3 1 DON’T D3S3RV3 TH1S. TH4T 1 H4V3N’T DON3 MY P4RT Y3T 4ND SOM3TH1NG B4D’S GONN4 H4PP3N 4ND SH1T’S GONN4 GO DOWN 4ND 1 DON’T KNOW WH4T TO DO 4NYMOR3."

Terezi crumpled, sobbing, and Karkat gingerly put an arm around her, assuring her through whispers he hadn’t given since forever. And through hushed tones, a clear voice resonated between them both.

"Its Alright Terezi. We All Feel The Same Way."

Kanaya walked out from behind the trees, subconsciously incandescent from her emotions. She knelt besides Terezi, taking her hands into hers.

“I Had That Feeling As Well. Of Something Incomplete As Though I Was Missing The Big Picture. When I Learned That The Other Version Of Rose And I Went Through A Much More Turbulent Relationship I Felt That Ours Went By Too Smoothly. And Not Just That. That Our Trials Felt Shallow. All We Had To Do Was Brute Force Our Way Through Things."

Terezi turned away from her, but Kanaya would have none of it. “Listen To Me,” she said, bringing Terezi to face her, as she gazed into those confused, ruby eyes. “Terezi Pyrope We Somehow Fucking Did It. We Did Well. We Fought The Bad Guys Of Our Session And Emerged Victorious. And Thats No Mean Feat Even If Things Were Set Up Such That The Optimal Outcome Would Emerge."

“YEAH,” Karkat said. “DAVE WAS TELLING ME HOW MANY TIMES YOU AND DAVE SAVED DIRK’S RECKLESS BUTT. AND HOW YOU TOTALLY KICKED ASS AGAINST BOTH JACKS. IT WASN’T EASY, WHAT YOU DID! GETTING THOSE TWO SUICIDAL BROTHERS OUT WITH BASICALLY NO CASUALTIES."

“If Anything Now We Bear Their Burden To Live On And Be Grateful,” Kanaya told her. “They Did So Much Just So That We Could Enjoy The Fruits Of Everyones Labour. It Was Not Just Their Work It Was A Collective Effort. We Just Contributed In Different Ways. And Im Sure Theyre More Than Happy With What They’ve Done And We Should Be Happy Ourselves If Not For Us Then For Them As Well."

“MM,” Terezi shrugged. “BUT 3V3N 1F 1 SOM3HOW 4CC3PT TH4T W3 D1D OK4Y, TH4T WON’T BR1NG H3R B4CK.” She gazed skywards, almost snickering at how ironic the gesture was. Dave would be proud.

Kanaya looked up at the sun as well, the symbol of Light promising greater things into the beyond. “You Know I Loved Her As Well. And I Wanted To Protect Her From Herself. But In The End It Wasnt Worth It For Me. But It Clearly Was To You."

“Y34H,” Terezi croaked. “SH3 R34LLY LOV3D H3R."

“ _You_ Really Loved Her,” Kanaya corrected. “And I Know You Still Do."

Terezi wiped a tear on her sleeve. “SH3’S MY S1ST3R. MY SCOURG3 S1ST3R."

“And I Know She Will Be Back,” Kanaya assured her. “She Will."

The three of them cuddled under the tree, the gushing gurgle of a stream by their side cascading into a waterfall, a beautiful white curtain that closed the stage. They might be the last members of their species for now, but there was still a long way ahead of them.

And it was alright to not be okay, and the road to healing would always be tough. But at least they would have each other, till death do them apart.

* * *

  
“You know, I don’t think I’m capable of love."

Jake English let the cooling river wash over his legs, quite enjoying how the Page outfit allowed him to enjoy the baring of skin in this way. 

"Not in a sense that I’m heartless,” he gestured over to Dirk jokingly, who was still still talking to Rose. “But that maybe just not… romantically? I’ve had the time to think about it, and I just don’t think I’m very… comfortable.” His fingers rummaged through the knots in his hair as he plucked up the courage to continue. "I’m sorry for being a daft nitwit, Jane, I really am. I shouldn’t have been so clueless and insensitive… But now that we’re here, I just wanted to make things clear between us. I love you, but like a pal."

Jane Crocker waded almost waist deep in the water, her Maid robes pooling around her. She’d left her old universe behind, but yet it was still the same old world. This was her Earth, the Earth she’d grown up on and lived in. The conflicting ideals reflected her inner monologue, which she pondered upon as she gazed at the young woman looking back at her.

She hadn’t noticed how different she looked. Disheveled hair slicked back by the water, grime from the battle dissolving in the water. Her hands were calloused from gripping the trident too tight, and her forearm had a fair bit of muscle from practice wielding the weapon. But most importantly, her battle hardened eyes. She could tell she’d grown up, in some way. Where before she was a girl on the cusp of adolescence, she’d felt like she was now taking her first steps towards womanhood.

But there was no rush in growing up.

“I love you too Jake,” she said back. “But like a pal."

Jake let out a relieved sigh, kicking water even harder and splashing it all over Jane. She squealed, and ducked into the water, darting towards Jake. He retreated a second too late as Jane burst out of the water, spitting a mouthful of water at Jake. When he wriggled out of the water, scrambling to get to dry land, Jane nabbed his legs, pulling him as he screamed, and they both entered the lake with a splash, completely drenched.

“Aw fudge,” Jake complained. “The water’s gonna stain my outfit! It’s improper for a lady like you to ogle at my conspicuous bulge.

Jane blushed at the thought but kept a brave face. “Well, as long as you keep your bottom half under water, things won’t have to get raunchy."

Jake’s expression changed into one of horror as Jane splashed him once again. “I was kidding! Boy, you need learn how to take a joke, champ!"

“I know, I know,” Jake sighed. “But for a second I thought you might… digress your romantic pursuits into something more… beneficial?"

Jane hesitated saying anything along the lines of ‘you _are_ a stud’, deciding that the poor chap had enough teasing for a while. She shouldn’t make this anymore awkward, considering how well they were doing patching things up.

“Along the way I guess I realised that I didn’t have to be in love as well. And that well, despite all previous metaphorical arrows pointing in the same direction, it didn’t have to be you."

“I really don’t think I’m as banged up as you all make me out to be,” Jake shrugged. “I-…” he hesitated. “Okay, I don’t want to be as brash as I was before, so apologies in advance if I say something wrong.” He wringed his hands as he tread water. “I know you’re all my friends… but it felt like you were all constructing some fake illusion to prop me up in an effort to make it seem like I was the best suitable partner for you all… even though that’s probably not true! It feels stupid, that positive affirmation from others would actually do a number on my self confidence, huh. It felt like all that expectation and big talk about adventuring and stuff… I couldn’t live up to it. It was what I’d like to be, but I saw myself and that I clearly… wasn’t. Just some doofus who wanted to just chill."

Jane nodded along the way as they swam to shore, and sat down on the river bank. Jake made an effort to cover up by crossing his thighs over his groin area, but the position was even more distracting. Jane kept her gaze locked onto his, ignoring anything else but the boy himself and his heart.

“Well,” she started, after Jake had clearly finished. “Of course it’s never healthy to… objectify others like that? Either putting them up on a pedestal like an idol or dehumanising them… but I really think that we all thought you were a great guy. You were just… this dude we’d love to hang out with. And that was all that mattered in the end. Everything else was just… teen drama and hormones and…” 

She sighed, dropping her shoulders over all the embarrassing moments they’ve had. But then she sat up again, brushing strands of her fringe to the side. “I don’t think any of that will be a problem anymore. We all treasure our friendship with you more than anything, and we’ll respect your wishes any way."

Jake nodded, another weight seemingly lifted off his chest. It was nice to finally be able to talk like this. Honestly, airing their feelings and with mutual understanding and respect. The face-to-face interaction helped as well, without the guise of a screen to hide emotions behind. Of course there’d be emotions leaking through - jealousy and disappointment, for example - but what good did it do to hide it? Confronting it head on would always be the better alternative in the long run. And given that they had until forever, the long run seemed like a pretty good idea.

"But you’re no longer interested in… romance?” Jake asked back. "I wouldn’t want to be the undoing of that, Jane. You deserve some happiness for yourself as well!"  
   
Jane puffed up her cheeks, before letting out a steady stream of air. It was a tough question. "I mean of course it’d be nice, to get to know someone in an intimate way and know that they’d have your back, but I already kind of have that, don’t I?” She looked around them, feeling the vaguely pulsating life forces of not just the kids and trolls, but every other living creature around them. It was a nice change, given how dead all their planets were. "And now there are so many others, so… there are options! If I ever want them. But I think for now, it’s just nice to hang out with all of you." 

They held hands as they watched the currents of the river curve and swirl around the scattered rocks, the way some would dash themselves and cause a dissipating puddle of foam. Jane never knew how liberating it’d feel to be able to interact in this way, with minimum emotional baggage. Touch was really a magical thing, and she didn’t have to do that romantically - that was amazing! Sure, she still got a little jittery and the butterflies fluttered about, but she had let most of that go.

Love is a feeling, sure, but it is also a choice. When she decided it wasn’t a choice she was ready to make, things became a lot simpler.

“And there’s Dad,” Jane said, as the waves carried stray branches across the clear water. “I’ve never really spent much quality time with him. And he’s well… he’s not a god like us, right? He’s given me so much, I should at least give back to him given that I now have all these cool powers.” Her hands lit up with a cyan aura, and nearby them, some weeds grew an inch taller, and the flowers erupted into full bloom.

“There’s Jade for me I guess,” Jake remarked. “And me for her. I hardly knew my Grandma, and it’s just so surreal for her to… come back in this way, you know?"

“I get you,” Jane giggled. “John is almost exactly like what I’d imagined Poppop would be, but at the same time it’s just so weird!"

They spent their time chatting over their unique relationship with their ‘dancestors’ - as the trolls had affectionately coined the term - and how despite knowing them as guardians, they were technically… their kids. It felt even more uncanny when it really sank in that John and Jade were _their_ kids! Jake joked about how Roxy no longer had to worry about how bootiful her hypothetically very real kids with Dirk would turn out. Jane grinned at the thought of her best friend. They hadn’t had much time to catch up, but she knew they would soon enough. 

You just can’t separate sisters like that for too long.

“Hey Jake,” came a different voice from far behind them. “If you’re cool with it, maybe wrap up over there and head on up? Sorry Jane, I’ve already booked him and would like to borrow him for a bit."

Jane gave a thumbs up as Jake fidgeted a little. “I’m sorry! Dirk’s calling me. I promised we’d hang after he caught up with his… biological daughter?"

“Rose is a great girl,” Jane nodded approvingly. “Takes after Dirk so much as well."

“You tell me,” Jake grinned. “She and Kanaya make a great couple."

“Relationship goals, amiright?” Jane prodded Jake.

They chuckled as they got up, brushing off the dirt on them. 

“Aiming to reach that level with Dirk?” Jane winked.

“We’re just best bros,” Jake shrugged, but also winking back. "The same way we’re best pals."

“Alright,” Jane glowed. “I better get back to Dad as well. He wanted some alone time to get used to all this, but I should check on him in case he gets lost or something."

“I’m sure the dapper man is doing fine,” Jake assured her. “Anyway, see you!"

Jane waved Jake goodbye as the adventurer trotted up the slope, Dirk lending him a hand for the last stretch. He was ridiculously strong, hauling Jake off his feet with just his bicep. For a moment Jake floated, thinking that he was still being yanked, but then settled down, and they exchanged grins.

Dirk had already abandoned his Prince getup, swapping out for his more comfortable tank and shorts, and taught Jake how to do the same. It helped the image conscious lad, as they sported their matching tattoos, and continued walking down the jungle path.

They caught up, things left unsaid during their brief exchange on the victory platform. As both had learned, the best way forward was through honest, open communication. Jake aired his insecurities and Dirk brought to light his. Although Jake already had an inkling, having the latter confirm it made him seem more like… a real person. Dirk was someone with multiple iterations of him, each possessing his essence, yet not the whole of him. It was impossible to get to know the whole of him, but he had carefully curated which segments others would see. He was straightforward as he brought these subtle manipulations to light, and apologised for them. It was no excuse that it was necessary to produce a facade of someone infinitely cool, who had his shit together constantly even though he was always splintering on the inside. He needed Jake to know the truth, but more importantly that he himself could acknowledge it.

Jake also made his stance clear to Dirk about their relationship, and Dirk accepted it well. All that mattered now was that they had each other, and that was enough. But they agreed that some exploring from time to time would be nice, if they were done on healthy terms. No more needy manipulations or second guessing.

 The jungle parted way into what seemed like elaborate, labyrinthine ruins, vines framing the picturesque grey stones amidst growing moss. It was beautiful, the crumbling of civilisation, but so was the promise of rebuilding.

Which begged the question.

"So… what comes next?” Jake asked, trying to make out the smoothened features of a buried statue.

"We need to get work done.” Dirk said. “After we finish fucking around, it has to be all business. We have mortals who’d very much like to be a part of the process as well. There are systems we need to establish. Governance of some kind. Infrastructure. And then the process of repopulating. We might have forever but that’s still a lot of things to do."

"I guess,” Jake sighed. "It’s impossible to play with all we have to do. Building a civilisation and what not."

There was a silence, only the chirping of insects that peppered the jungle. They arrived at the mouth of a wide staircase leading down, slippery with overgrown flora. It was grand, the kind of display that led up to monumental temples, or something of the majestic or sacred kind. They gazed below, before they both burst out laughing.

"Pfft! HAHAHAHA!"

"Naaaah, that’s never going to work."

“We’re always gonna be a silly bunch of idiots,” Dirk teared, stabilising himself from doubling over by holding onto Jake for support. 

“That’s never gonna change,” Jake agreed, as they recollected themselves, staring into the vast expanse of this beautiful, beautiful world.

Dirk nodded. “Even if there’s shit to be done, we’ll get it done our way."

They stood at the top, overseeing everything below. It was one thing to be called a god, and another thing to be one. Immortality still hadn’t really sunk in for them - sixteen years was nothing compared to the whimsical ‘forever’ and they had little to no reference of what it might be like. How would things change? What would stay constant? Even when they were gone, what would they leave behind?

In this respect, we’re almost like myths, Dirk thought, even before the mythologizing began. That was the consequence of being a creator. Of having everything around you called ‘yours’, as in ‘of your making’. Maybe, not yet, but soon. Soon they’d will build up something to behold, and it would be theirs. Their legacy.

The parallels brought something hilarious to Dirk’s mind.

"Shit, let’s be Santa."

He voiced out his proclamation loud, absurd in its own right without context. Jake could only gape, shocked at the words and struggling to find some meaning to them. But Dirk was only grinning like a maniac, pleased at his own genius, as he crafted the poignant words that would bring the phrase home.

"Be the gift that keeps giving in this new world of ours."

Jake chortled, clapping as he understood the reference. Yes, that was what they were going to become, he agreed. Become motherfucking Santa, a symbol of greater and better things to come.

"We’ll just keep doing what we have to do,” Jake said. “For as long as it takes."

"And while we’re at it,” Dirk shouted, “Have fun as well!"

He jumped, without a skateboard to land on as he attempted to surf down the stairs. Dirk didn’t make it four steps before he tripped, tumbling down the uneven slope downwards. He cried out as he let gravity take him, making no effort to resist the perfect meme material that would plaster a smile on Dave’s face for the next decade.

"I told you, dog!” Jake hollered from above, cackling as he floated to the bottom to help Dirk up. "I warned you about stairs, bro!"

Dirk winced despite shaking with laughter, and they had a good time cracking up, finding endless amusement over this trivial slip-up that wasn’t so trivial after all. They howled and hooted, making a ruckus that chased away anything disturbed by loud sounds.

“What’s all this noise I hear?"

Roxy and Calliope stepped out of the clearing, having stumbled upon the pair. They held hands, and Calliope looked distracted with the wonder of nature she hadn’t got to experience with her own two eyes.

“I… I told him… a-about... stairs,” Jake coughed, taking care to catch his breath and not hyperventilate. Dirk could only smile like an idiot, still pounding the floor with fists.

“Well, and I told you two to not get too carried away.” Roxy put her hands on her hips. “You’re gonna scare everything away! Then what will I show Callie?"

“Let them be, Roxy,” Calliope said, blushing a little. “They’re kinda cute together."

“Oh?” Roxy grinned, raising her eyebrows. “You and I should collaborate on some steamy slash-fic for their birthdays next year."

“It’s not like that!” the both of them shouted at the same time, as the two girls giggled.

“Hey everybody!"

Jade greeted them as Dave and Karkat, along with Rose, Kanaya and Terezi found the others as well. Not long after, John escorted Jane and her Dad to the informal rendezvous point. Both WV and PM were present as well, being drawn to the concentration of chatter.

“Looks like everyone’s here,” John observed, smiling. 

“YEAH I GUESS,” Karkat said. “AS THOUGH THAT WASN’T OBVIOUS ENOUGH. IS THIS SIGNIFICANT? I DON’T KNOW! HOW ABOUT WE GO WITH SOMETHING NOT-SO-OBVIOUS BUT DEFINITELY SIGNIFICANT TO CELEBRATE OUR RETURNING TO SOME ARBITRARY SPOT AFTER FROLICKING AROUND ALL DAY."

“Like that sloppy makeout session John alluded to three years ago?” Rose suggested, sarcastic.

“WHY NOT!” Karkat threw his hands up. “WE DO HAVE A HANDFUL OF HANDSOME COUPLES, DON’T WE? WHY THE FUCK NOT WE JUST THROW DOWN EVERYTHING RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW AND START KISSING?"

There was a muted silence, almost awkward as everyone wondered how to react to Karkat’s little outburst. And then she spoke up.

“You know what?” Roxy grinned. “I think we’ll have that."

Roxy smooched Calliope on her forehead, as the latter covered her face abashedly, only for Roxy to persist with more kissy attacks. They generated a kind of rhythm, a coy chase of cat and mouse, expressing playful, mutual affection through a series of pecks on each other.

Then, Kanaya swept Rose off her feet, scooping her up as the troll planted a kiss on her nose. Then, they locked lips, passionately making out in front of everyone. Rose floated herself to ease the weight but Kanaya would have none of it. She would support all of Rose, whether physically, mentally, or emotionally.

“Is this what we’re doing now,” Dave said, amused. “Succumbing to our hormones under parental supervision? Nice.” Dad Crocker gave him a stern, but bemused expression.

He gestured to Karkat, who was sidestepping his way to safety. “C’mere."

"NO,” Karkat screeched, as Dave chased his boyfriend, Karkat screaming bloody murder as Dave flew around Karkat, purposefully missing his lips and planting kisses everywhere else on the flailing troll.

“You brought this on yourself,” Dave said, Karkat still running away.

“THAT WAS YOUR INSUFFERABLE SISTER, YOU BLITHERING NITWIT!"

Dave’s view was suddenly blocked by something very black and also oddly soft.

Jade swooped in, and gave Dave a full on kiss on his lips. He tried to back away, startled, but Jade held the back of his head as she sank her mouth into his.

“You can deal it but you can’t take it.” Jade teased, as their lips parted.

“Oh yeah? Is that a dare?” Dave said, wiping his mouth, smacking his lips. “You’re a pretty good kisser you know."

“Thanks,” Jade grinned. “I’ve had practice. With you."

An incomprehensible garble could be heard from Karkat while they teased each other. They turned, and Karkat’s skin was almost as red as beetroot.

"ARE YOU GOING TO LET ME HAVE A TURN OR DO I HAVE TO STAND HERE WATCHING YOU BLATHER SALIVA ACROSS EACH OTHER’S FACES."

Jane reached up to peck her Dad on the cheek, feeling like doing something to express love for him, but also just to redirect his stern fatherly disapproval at the ongoing shenanigans. No one said this had to be a romantic thing.

"I don’t suppose either of you’ll let me kiss you, right?” Dirk asked John and Jake, half joking. All he got back from them were puzzled stares and raised eyebrows. “Yeeeup. Forget I asked haha."

He turned around, met the image of Terezi making out with a stick, and turned right back, content to observe the smooch-fest instead.

Unlike most things with the teenagers, this was neither awkward nor embarrassing. It was just a group of hopefuls displaying already publicly known affection with each other, but just in the presence of others. But none of them seemed to mind, at least not when most of the others were occupied as well. Even Dave and Karkat - arguably two of the most self conscious ‘cool guys’ of the group, managed two kiss for like, two seconds, while everyone around them whooped and cheered. Karkat had to chase them away afterwards, but he managed to flash Dave a secret grin.

It took some time, but they finally broke it off - with Kanaya finally knocking the stick out of Terezi’s lips as the latter cackled delightfully at her ruse - when they noticed the two carapaces were missing.

“Whoops,” Jade said. “We must have frightened them off with-"

Her sentence was cut short as Roxy hushed them all, pointing to a nearby tree. Beneath it, PM and WV were cuddling, eyes closed in rest. They nuzzled next to each other, adjusting periodically to make themselves comfortable. WV had his head tucked nicely under PM’s chin, and they both supported each other, an interlocking pose of synergy.

"D’aww," John cooed, the adorableness implicit, as everyone else fondly regarded the cute couple. White folded into black, a balance of two souls in perfect harmony, composition picturesque. 

The forest hummed around them, admiring not just the carapaces, but the group as a whole. They would be their salvation. They would be the ones to create the music that would bring the planet back to life, restore it to its former glory. They’d compose and conduct and play the symphony all at once, and Earth would dance to it; all life would move as one to their song, their beautiful tale of victory, and what came after.

They could dance forever.

But now?

This was alright.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote "Sarabande" shortly after 4/13, alongside my other Homestuck work, What If BKEW Was Right? This encapsulates most of my feelings about the kids and their bittersweet victory.
> 
> A lot has changed since then, but not this chapter. Even as I re-read it for editing, I still love it, for all its awkward charm and interactions that I believe do justice to the crew. I hope you enjoy this chapter as a start to the rest of the series.


	2. Serenade

Carapacians were built for function. That was why their true names were rarely spoken - it meant little in the context of the work they had to do. Nobody could really remember if Paul was on guard duty today or if Vera was leading the sermons, so they stuck with just naming others by function. 

This was propagated all the way from the monarchy down to the peasants, and was used as an insidious form of control by Paradox Space that reinforced their respective roles and also their dispensability. Objectification helped remind that they were literal pawns in a very large game, never mind that they were genetically cloned almost as machines, nigh immortals with lifespans beyond the most royal blooded troll.

The Vagabond and Mistress knew this, and they would be the last of their kind to carry on the tradition.

Given that carapacians were to make the bulk of civilization, it was a necessary move. To subconsciously assert that the majority were subservient to the few would be a horrible mistake.

That and not expanding names beyond four characters.

“HECTOR!!!"

“The risk I took was calculated, but dang, am I bad at math."

“YOU DON’T SAY?!”

“lel he's even memeing in this situation. comedy gold."

“IT’S A MEME?”

Years in the future, but not many, three young carapacians scurried across an emerald lawn, green stretching into the ends of the world. Slick sweat stained their exoskeletal skin, and they sprinted as fast as their legs could carry them.

“Sorry, Isla, but I didn’t know it’d react in that way.”

“YOU BLEW AT A LUSUS NATURAE ON THE SNOUT EXPECTING WHAT, HECTOR? SHEIKH, CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS GUARDIANFUCKER?”

“well, the bandersnatch is barrelling towards us now, so there isn’t much we can do-“

“You named it? That’s-“

“WHY THE PROSPIT WOULD YOU NAME THAT INFERNAL THING?”

“i’ve read some sick scriptures and fallen down the rabbit hole of delectable prose and my impressionable young mind has conjured up from the depths of fictitious asswanking - this name. because how can it _not_ be a bandersnatch?”

The 'bandersnatch' was like a racoon on steroids, or perhaps a bear fused with a wolverine displaying the temperament of a honey badger. There wasn’t really a human analogue to base this creature on, with a ruffled frenzy of silver fur coating its rippling muscles, the quadrupedal beast a thing of nightmares. It was almost toying with the carapacian children, prowling at a leisurely pace before closing the gap in two steps, then galloping with a flurry of action to make them believe it was sprinting when it was just stomping around like a behemoth toddler. 

Needless to say, the trio never looked back, and thus had no idea the extent of how screwed they were.

“Hey! I have an idea-“

“HEY! HOW ABOUT SHUT UP AND STOP THINKING OF THINGS THAT WILL KILL US.”

“I’m serious here. If it’s a lusus it’s a living thing, which means-

“omg he’s really gonna do it.”

“It can be reasoned with. On an emotional level. I can calm it down with music."

“HECTOR YOU CANNOT FUCKING SERENADE A WILD BEAST WITH YOUR VOICE OR YOUR THROBBING LIP DILDO.”

“woah you spend way too much time with the trolls to be talking like that."

“Can do."

“YOU ARE A SHITTY FUCKING BARD, AND EVERYONE SOUTH OF CITY HALL KNOWS IT."

"chill your tits and keep those nips inverted. we all know how much of a raging boner you have for hector’s singing.”

“FUCK YOU SHEIKH.”

“So can the two of you keep it busy?

"THAT FUCKING THING’S TEETH WILL CRUNCH THROUGH OUR BEETLE SKIN LIKE A BAG OF LIGHTLY SALTED CHIPS, AND YOU WANT ME TO ENGAGE IT?"

"i’ll do it. bandy will have nothing on us two, so focus on getting your snake charmer on yeah? isn’t that right isla haruka?"

“NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE. NOT HAPPENING.”

“too late. turn around and die like a hero or run and die anyway.”

The two Prospitians, Isla Haruka and Sheikh, leapt in opposite directions, Hector dashing straight ahead. The bandersnatch stood their ground, glancing at all three children and finding it harder to keep all of them in its field of vision as they fanned out.

Isla Haruka whipped out their strife specibus first - a scythekind, with Sheikh drawing out their bookkind soon after. Hector made sure that he’s a comfortable distance away from the beast before fumbling with an oboe, fingering clumsy and almost spasm like.

It would be some time before Hector could play, with his nerves all jittery and his breath sporadic and unsteady. So the other two would have to buy some time.

“red blooded mutant. candy veins for a monster straight out of halloween. this thing’s engineered by humans, so it makes sense that they’d make it controllable.”

“SPILL THE ACHILLES HEEL OR SPARE ME THE EXPOSITION.” Isla Haruka steadied her weapon, the blade of the scythe pointing towards the bandersnatch.

Leaning back on its hind legs, the bandersnatch identified Isla Haruka as its largest threat, getting ready to strike.

“belly, probably,” Sheikh replies, flipping through almanac after almanac. “unguarded, fluffy, meaty area. slip and slide and carve carnage like michelangelo did for david."

The bandersnatch pawed at the ground twice, riling itself up before charging forth, and Isla Haruka has her comically large blade all prepared, she herself dashing to meet her foe.

“HEEL, YOU FUCKING MUTT!”

Just as the bandersnatch pounced, Isla Haruka went low, skidding across the grass and tilting the blade such that the flats merely grazed the beast, not wounding but causing enough of an abrasion to harm it.

“what was that huh.” Sheikh’s face drew a blank, disappointed with Isla Haruka.

“IF YOUR PACIFIST LITTLE BLOWHOLE IS GOING TO CALM DOWN THIS SLOBBERING FACE-EATER, SHOULDN’T WE DO AS LITTLE AS WE CAN TO MAKE IT ANGRIER?”

“wait we’re seriously trusting hector here? i thought we were just going to take it down ourselves.”

“WHAT THE FUCK THEN WHY ARE WE EVEN-“

“because facing it head on is solving the problem, not just running away from it.”

“FUCKING JEGUS.”

“Hey guys! I’m ready!”

Hector shrugged his shoulders to loosen them up, forcefully exhaling on his fingers to warm them up for his oboe. Even as Sheikh flipped through his books for another solution and as Isla Haruka got ready to fight for real, he took his time, carefree and ready to play his song.

Isla Haruka shot herself into the air, scythe in a position to cleave the bandersnatch into two.

And then Hector played his first note.

Sheikh shot Isla Haruka a dirty glance, but Hector’s music was so resonantly awful, it shifted her focus. By the time she snapped back, she was no longer on track for a proper attack.

“TCH.”

Isla Haruka stumbled mid-air, extending her arm so that she wouldn’t get caught up in her blade as she rolled on the floor, the bandersnatch eyeing her the whole way.

She wasn’t joking when she said Hector was a shitty bard.

“THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

“Whoops. I guess I’ll have to try again-“

“no time. i’ve got a better idea.”

Sheikh dashed forth, and even with their frail body, managed to climb top the bandersnatch. With all its attention focused on Isla Haruka, it was easy enough. All that was left was to-

“hector can you fucking pick an instrument you can actually blow decently enough then play the simplest kindergarten piece possible if you want to seem useful i guess."

With that, Sheikh grabbed two bunches of fur near the nape of the bandersnatch’s neck, and hauled on it like a pair of reins.

“Yes, chief!”

“the timing must be impeccable. counting on you, isla haruka. the belly." 

Isla Haruka could guess what was going to happen. Sheikh would flail on top until the bandersnatch stood on its two stocky, stumpy hind legs, making its belly accessible. Then, it was just a matter of-

She saw her reflection in the shimmering white blade of her scythe. She wasn’t ready, not yet. This was needless.

But the timing had to be adhered to, as always.

Not a single note of Hector’s lousy rendition of Twinkle-Twinkle Little Star could be heard as the blood boiled between Isla Haruka’s ears, priming her body to react to the smallest stimuli.

Sheikh didn’t have to shout or give any signal. Isla Haruka saw the twitch in the bandersnatch’s eyes, its irises moving upwards. She moved as soon as its front legs left the ground.

And she charged, tackling straight into the bandersnatch, and using the heel of her scythe, managed to topple it over on its back.

Clearly alarmed, Sheikh hopped off in the nick of time, annoyed as Isla Haruka pinned the bandersnatch down. With how hefty it was and how pudgy its limbs were in comparison to its gargantuan body, it wouldn’t be flipping itself around anytime soon.

“what the donkey’s ass was that?!" 

“YOU CAN’T SERIOUSLY EXPECT ME TO KILL THAT THING,” Isla Haruka pointed to the helpless, writhing creature.

"it was going to kill us first and don’t you already have to get used to being a glorified butcher-"

"THAT’S NOT NOW, RIGHT? THE THING’S NOT EVEN A CARAPACIAN-“

“self and friends before others, eh? look, at least wound the fucker-“

“WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS SO EAGER TO DISH OUT THE PAIN? SICK FUCK. PSYCHOPATHIC SOCIOPATH.”

“if you expect me to retort that i’m high functioning, i’d sooner dig a grave for myself and excuse my soul into the underworld.”

“THIS IS WHY WE’RE YOUR ONLY FRIENDS.”

“too low. that was uncalled for you-"

“Who’s a good little doggy?”

The arguing pair turned their attention to Hector, bless his sweet and innocent soul, rubbing the belly of the bandersnatch that Isla Haruka managed to turn over and expose.

“HECTOR WHAT THE-“

“holy shit it’s actually working.”

Isla Haruka blinked once, twice. And even as the daft Dersite snuggled up to the beast, tickling the tummy and getting his face all into the shrubbery of the bandersnatch’s underside, she could tell that the bandersnatch didn’t mind. In fact, the bandersnatch seemed to love it, wriggling in glee and giving out playful yelps and chortles.

“He’s really soft down here!”

“language and innuendo, sir,” Sheikh teased, placing a coy palm to their mouth.

“HOW THE FUCK DID YOU FIGURE THAT OUT, OR IS IT JUST DUMB LUCK AGAIN?”

Hector gave a satisfied grin to his friends. “You said the belly was his most sensitive spot, didn’t you, Sheikh? I guess maybe I can’t charm his ears, but a good rub doesn’t really take skill. He’s so soft, like a puppy-“

“move over,” Sheikh interrupted, before setting his own hands on the thing, sighing at the comfortable texture. “you know, we could even ride this thing back.”

“NO KIDDING,” Isla Haruka stared on, mouth agape. “WE WALTZ STRAIGHT BACK WITH THIS… THIS THING-“

“He’s just a huge, lost kitty,” Hector crooned, continuing his bombardment of massages.

“DOG OR CAT CAN YOU MAKE UP YOUR MIND.”

Sheikh could only chuckle as he rested the back of his head into the bandersnatch. “as long as it’s a cuddly domestic animal i don’t think anybody would give two flying shits.”

The orange sky bleeds into the clouds, and as the sun sets on New Earth, the trio huddle around the satisfied bandersnatch, even the reluctant Isla Haruka finding it in her to let her guard down and enjoy herself. 

Yawns floated from Hector’s mouth even as Sheikh stretched. "come on, let’s get back before dusk. even with the abysmal protection of nyx we are bound to get shredded by the grown-ups if we’re late for the festival."

"After all,” Hector beamed, "You’re the star of tonight, aren’t you, Haruka?"

"CAN YOU USE MY FULL NAME OR AT LEAST STICK WITH WHICH HALF YOU WANT TO SAY."

“Hee hee,” Hector scratched the back of his head, abashed. “Sorry then, Isla.”

"BY THE WAY SHEIKH, WHAT WAS THE POINT OF MAKING HECTOR PLAY JUST NOW WHILE I TACKLED THE ROLY-POLY TO THE GROUND."

"no reason," Sheikh lounged on the bandersnatch. "just giving him something to do. stay out of trouble and all."

"But I saved the day in the end, didn't I?"

Isla Haruka rapped Hector's thick skull with her knuckles. "YES I GUESS YOU DID. REGRETTABLY. THROUGH SOME FREAK OF NATURE FLUKE-“

“looks like someone’s saltier than the ocean crying-"

“AM NOT.”

The chatter of the children sprinkled the evening, highlighting their journey. As the gradient of the star-speckled sky shifted from warm to cool, indigo lifting themselves from the mountains to blend into the reds, the trio rode back, Hector at the helm.

What a day it had been. What a night it had yet to be.

* * *

  
The entrance back into their village was as spectacular as anyone could imagine, what with three kids riding the back of a tamed menace.

“Woah! That’s so cool! You’re awesome, Isla Haruka!”

“Being able to intimidate this grovelling beast until you can mount it? That’s a true born and raised candidate for you!”

The other carapacian children flocked to the bandersnatch, even as Isla Haruka and Sheikh got off. Hector took advantage of the extra space, leaning forward into it and splaying out his body.

“HEY UM GUYS. I DIDN’T ACTUALLY-“

“it’s called a bandersnatch, you nitwits. use the proper name-“

“Even with scrub-face Hector you managed to do it? Dang Isla, I don’t know why you even bother hanging out with these chums."

“JUST BABYSITTING, THAT’S ALL. CAN’T HAVE ANYONE DYING ON MY WATCH, YOU KNOW?"

“wow rude.”

The older carapacians don’t bat an eye, even with the absurd situation of a wild lusus strolling into their village. If it hadn’t already eaten Hector, came the reasoning, then there was no cause for alarm.

“I am glad you three made it back in time.” Lithe frame, grey coat extended with open arms. Elder Mojave greeted the children even as another Dersite child zipped past him.

“you’re back! what’s that you’re on hector? looks really cool!”

“Hey, Possum,” Hector waved, his head still lost in the luxurious coat of the bandersnatch. “A mighty fine creature, ain’t it? The three of us managed to tame it and now I think it can be a part of our growing family.”

The stocky girl named Possum prodded the thick calves of the bandersnatch, before deciding that she liked it as well. “the ceremony’s about to begin, and you know it’s a big one! come on, before mojave comes for you!”

Hector pouted in protest, but relented as he slid down the side of the bandersnatch, reminding the creature to keep still and rest. Then arm in arm, Possum and Hector made their way to the hearth where their community was gathered around, their ceremony beginning soon.

Isla Haruka and Sheikh were already seated, and had saved a spot for their friends.

“HEY POSIE,” Isla Haruka waved Possum and Hector over, motioning towards the empty spaces they managed to reserve.

“hey love,” Possum winked, and Isla Haruka’s pink blush was all the more visible on her porcelain skin. “i’d love to join you tonight, but my duties call me up front. i’ll see you after, okie?"

Isla Haruka puffed her chest out, grinning as she gave Possum a mock salute. “AFTER IT IS, THEN.” 

Tonight’s congregation had a huge turnout - easily hundreds of carapacians across fourteen, fifteen cohorts, all gathered and cosy next to the warm flames. When things had more or less settled down, and the hour had come and gone, did things finally begin.

“Let us give thanks,” Mojave’s voice resonated throughout the circle enclosing the bonfire. “To the Gods who have fought hard for our reality, to our Creators who have made everything we have today possible.”

A murmur of gratitude billowed through the crowd, everyone’s hands clasped in fervent prayer. When all was said, Mojave motioned to the girl on his left. "Possum, please start us off."

"let us recite,” came the chirpy enthusiasm of Possum, "the litany of the medium."

Chanting as one, the congregation brought forth wisdom that would guide them throughout their sacred night.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.  
These are the lies they tell the world, to get away scot free.  
Written or spoken, words have power, words sustain us all.  
Wield them with courage, beware abuse, or prepare to face the fall.”

“so it is said,” Possum ended the poem, handing back authority to the elder.

Mojave kept his hands locked behind his back as he surveyed the crowd. “As you know tonight is a special occasion, a cause for celebration more than anything. Tonight, we offer our best into apprenticeship, to ascend and take on the mantle of Reapers.”

The word brings a hush to the carapacians, a solemn gravity descending upon them.

“But first, of course,” Mojave’s eyes crinkled like lines in the sand spelling out a good joke. “Our stories.”

"With Hemera and Nyx as our witnesses on this holy evening, we would like to recount our tale of the Maid of Life, and the Rogue of Void. Of two girls closer than sisters, who ascended to be our goddess, their fates intertwined. Of, if I may indulge myself, Jane and Roxy.”

This was the cue for the congregation to take seat, as they took up their positions around the crackling hearth, Elder Mojave pacing back and forth.

“Like many good tales, this one begins at the dawn of seeming betrayal, an explosion under the guise of well meaning intentions. The Rogue of Void tried to steal away a bleak future from her best friend, but alas, even that prophecy had to pass under the tyrannical cycle of Paradox Space and the Alpha Timeline.”

Mojave got more animated as his story went on. “But this shows how even under the most barren soil, hope can still sprout from within. After all, this is the result, is it not?” He spread his arms, cheeks lifted in ecstatic gratitude.

“Life comes from Void, and to Void, Life will return. The greatest symbol of our two Nobles lie in their twin rings, or possibly, a ring one and the same, and its dual abilities. To bring the dead from the abyss, and return the living to nothingness. This is also the cycle that the both of them ride, that the both of them seek to circumvent.”

“he’s kinda preachy tonight ain’t he?” Sheikh nudged Hector, only to get deathly stares from Possum, across the circle. In retaliation, Sheikh sneaked a middle finger back.

Hector wrapped his hands around Sheikh’s vulgar gesture. “Don’t do that,” came the whispered hiss. “It’s a big day for everyone, there’s bound to be tension and we don’t wanna spark anything.”

Sheikh waved Hector’s concerns off, and stared knowingly into the distance.

“-and she knelt down before the divine statue of Nyx, grieving the death of-“

Despite his best efforts, Hector found it tough to pay attention. The little excursion the three of them had was a last trip of innocence they could afford. Things would be different after today. Even though the number of candidates could be counted on one hand, their batch as a collective would have been considered to come of age. It wasn’t that carefree days were over, but rather that other days were coming. Hector welcomed change, invited it even, but the loss that came with the gains always left a bittersweet taste in his mouth… one that he didn’t understand-

“YOU’RE MAKING FACES AGAIN, HECTOR.”

Isla Haruka was harsh, even in whisper, and Hector found his brow scrunched up, lips disfigured in near disgust. His hands covering his face, Hector shirked away in shame. He didn’t mean disrespect, but there he let his own thoughts drift away once again.

A solid pat on the back and a few tugs were needed for Hector to pull himself back. Isla Haruka looked concerned, and even Sheikh was giving a disconcerted frown. Hector put on a brave face. He couldn’t ruin this day for them, for her.

If he had been a second later in readjusting back, Possum would’ve caught wind that something was up.

“that was close,” Sheikh mumbled to themselves. “that racoon would’ve ratted on to the elder, and then this night will never be over.”

“-and then she was finally victorious against the scourge of her land, of her family and friends. The Condescension would no longer look down, only on the spectre of her death as she crumpled to one knee, and then another, a splatter of fuchsia staining the amethyst tiles of Derse. It was over.”

The children let out a sigh of relief. While these stories might have once upon a time charmed and enchanted them, keeping them late up at night in thoughts of valour and adventure, it no longer carried as much weight. 

As Mojave sat down, Possum took center stage, some centurions also standing and gathering towards the perimeter. The hundred year old musicians tuned their instruments to the sizzling of fire as the strings started off the procession of hymns.

“let us sing,” Possum encouraged, arms raised as various members decided to stand. “to commemorate our heroes and nobles. let us give voice to the serenade."

This was much more tolerable. Being able to partake in the action, coupled with phenomenal, timeless songs that generation after generation could enjoy, brought life to the festival. Isla Haruka belted out phrase after patriotic phrase, and even Sheikh found themselves standing, clapping along. Hector was content with humming, knowing that his tone-deafness wouldn’t be very appreciated in a crowd that could churn out four part harmonies at the snap of a finger.

After the last voice could no longer sustain the final note, the music continued on, the next song effortlessly melding themselves into the previous one. Hector envied the musicians, intently gazing at the woodwinds, imitating their fingering. 

One day, he would sing with the bassoon, reenacting fantastical tales of glory for Sheikh. He would deliver his own renditions of solos on a baritone saxophone for Isla Haruka. His clarinet would drip with honey on one end, the sweet melodies lifted with a wholesome jug of sincerity he would serve Possum.

Even if it took a hundred years. Even if he had to bare tooth and nail and bargain with the Reapers to become a millennial. 

“Now,” Elder Mojave regained control of the crowd, and though the earlier momentum carried on, the mood became more sombre. “We will announce our candidates for the four hundred and thirteenth cohort of Reapers.”

Sheikh elbowed Hector in excitement. “arc numbers,” he explained. “no one really cares anymore, but i do. it’s a good omen.”

“Yeah it is,” Hector nodded, not really understanding anything.

“First, from the Prospitians,” Mojave cleared his throat. "Isla Haruka."

The cheers erupted, despite it being beyond expectation that Isla Haruka would be selected to become a Reaper candidate. Hector and the others had known the moment they met her, straight out of the vat. She was literally made and nurtured to become one. It was in her genetic code.

Isla Haruka jogged to the front, bowing low once to Elder Mojave, and then turning towards the crowd, brandished her scythe, before bowing again. A proud yet humble gesture of servitude, of accomplishment, of ascension.

"Next, our ambassador from the Dersites, Mtendere."

A lean giant of a child, Mtendere stepped forth, the genderfluid prodigy grinning from ear to ear. Standing next to Isla Haruka, the latter was dwarfed even though she had a good half head on most of her peers.

Mtendere drew their specibus in an implicit challenge to Isla Haruka, that they wouldn’t be outdone by the best seed. Twin sets of three claws stretched down the back of their hands, with a length that any respected Leijon would’ve admired.

“Finally, a special candidate picked off at the last minute.”

Elder Mojave didn’t have to wait for the applause to die down. The finality of the candidates brought an urgent hush towards all favourites that had applied, and the excitement was electric.

"He personally requested we consider him, and he has fit the criteria to become an apprentice. May I call forward,"

In anticipation, the crowd began to gear up, the pitter patter of palms rising into a crescendo.

 "Sheikh."

The rumbling applause cut into silence, like the moment after waves crash onto a shore. The ocean of carapacian children parted as Sheikh walked down the middle, brimming with posture. There wasn’t any more sheepish awkwardness laced in irony, the smugness so characteristic of the bookworm. Sheikh carried a determined expression of someone who knew what they wanted.

Even Isla Haruka’s mouth was agape as Sheikh turned the pair into a trio, and he bowed towards the congregation. And then in perhaps a signature, rebellious move, Sheikh hauled out a book, rifling through its pages as he stared into the eyes of the crowd dead on.

“Here I present to you,” Elder Mojave kept the festival alive. “Your Reapers.”

Despite the shock of Sheikh’s candidacy, the carapacians took the announcement in stride, and celebrated the coming of age of the new candidates. The children especially, swarmed to the front, this being their last opportunity to interact with their peers on the same level.

It would never be the same after this.

“Isla Haruka! You go girl!"

“Remember us, won’t you Mtendere?”

“Mtendere, you go and kick some butt!”

“Congratulations, Isla Haruka! I mean you don’t need it, but you deserve it-“

“I won’t forget y’all, kay? Stay strong and take care!”

“Sheikh, you lucky bastard! You scruffy scum you! Into the big leagues now, huh?”

“Isla!!! I love you! Make sure you take the world by storm! I’ll be rooting for you!”

All the while, the centurion musicians decorated the atmosphere with a swell of hope, their instruments soaring with spirit. The festival was in full swing, the percussion spitting fiery beats and the chorus of carapacians dancing, hauling their candidates up high. It would culminate in a climax of reverence, followed by bittersweet parting that would take place the following morning, but now, now was the time for new beginnings, for-

“make way make way!!!"

Throughout the incessant parading, a small figure bruised her way to the front, bouncing with pious enthusiasm. Possum now huddled herself in her coatkind, bulbous and billowing, a stream of cloth trailing from her neck in her wake. On her head was a cone-shaped hat that was half the length of her body, even as the upper third was wonky and tilted to one side. Its brim was spilling out the edges, a tad worn out and serrated. The hat and the coat was almost medieval in the implicit imagery it elicited, almost intentionally so.

“isla haruka!!” she shrieked, one of the many hands making a grab for the celebrity candidate. “my isla! don’t you dare wriggle away from me now!"

Even with her torso in constant undulation, Isla Haruka managed to twist around in the direction of Possum’s voice, chortling as she made her way through towards it. Despite dozens of jealous wails, Isla Haruka reached out and found Possum’s tiny hands, fingers interlocked as they whooped in laughter, having the time of their lives.

“you’re killing it tonight, love!”

“I’M NOT SURE THAT’S APPROPRIATE,” Isla Haruka chuckled. "GIVEN THE CIRCUMSTANCES."

“it’s wholly appropriate,” Possum giggled, before turning towards the crowd. “let’s bring this party higher!!!"

Possum was the bubbling bumble of the children, her upbeat demeanour lifting more spirits as she rode the centurions’ pieces. Like a mobius loop the musicians and audience fed energy into each other, building upon each other into a skyscraper of exuberance. At its peak, the crowd threw the three candidates upon into the sky in a resounding cheer, perfectly timed with the musicians’ silence for greater impact.

Just as the candidates fell back to earth, the soprano saxophone broke into a grandiose solo, a chromatic glissando that stretched the entire register the opening notes. It was the zenith of achievement at the technical and emotional level, each crisp note soaring above the crowd, above the tower of flame flickering from the hearth, from-

_PROOOOT!!! PRUUUM, PU-RUUUM, PAM PAM PAM PROOOOT!!!_

The interruption was uncalled for, an unskillful, crass trumpet layered on top of the saxophone solo. It was piercing, dissonant, almost scream-like, and cut through everything - even the music stopped.

And at the other end, was Hector, instrument placed at his swollen lips, a dying swan song that fizzed and spluttered. 

Shame and devastation welled up in Hector’s tears, as the entire assembly of carapacians could only stare at him.

“He doesn’t play brass, does he?"

Mutterings began to effervesce through the masses, as Hector’s trumpet dropped to the floor with a clang, and he ran off, away, anywhere but here. Isla Haruka started to give chase but Possum held her back, glancing towards Sheikh.

They didn’t need to be reminded twice, Sheikh already taking strides as he chased their friend. Possum did her best to bring back the crowd, but the mood would never be the same afterwards. The high had fizzled out, and the rest of the celebrations were lukewarm at best.

Sheikh had to increase their pace into a steady jog before they caught up. They found Hector bent over, hands on his knees, in the shade of a hut that shielded the light of the bonfire.

He had his fists balled up, his entire body shaking. “I fucked up, didn’t I?"

Sheikh dug their heels into the earth. “i fucked up too, hector, but you were being a child back there-"

"What’s wrong with being a child, huh? Aren’t you one too?"

That shut up Sheikh, as Hector heaved and sobbed, the trickling of tears the only sound for a long time. Sheikh clammed up, unsure of what to say, all their confidence from earlier dissipated in an instance, in the shadow of their friend. Disappointment, betrayal, sorrow...

"Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sheikh ran their fingers through their scalp, nervous. "i didn’t really know myself, to be honest. i gave it a fair amount of thought - okay fine, a fuck load of thought, and decided to apply mere moments before the deadline. i really didn’t think it’d bear fruit or anything, and i’m a wild card   
you know? like you i didn’t expect this even though it is kinda cool and all but-“

“Stop giving excuses!”

Hector got to the truth each time. It was hard trying to smoke someone as genuine as him, and in that respect Sheikh was his foil. Never getting to the point was somewhat a signature of theirs.

“i just didn’t know what to say, hector. i didn’t want you-“

“To be a burden to your dreams, right? You didn’t know how to break it to me that you won’t always be by my side.”

“we’re still best friends and all, right? like real chill buds, homies and-“

“This is about Dave, isn’t it?”

Sheikh’s expression darkened, their turn to tense up in fury.

“that’s not fair, hector.”

“Let’s not make this about me.” Hector wrangled his hands, still refusing to face Sheikh, a confused child wallowing in loss. “You would give up everything, throw away your whole life, bind yourself towards servitude, give up your friends, your peace, your books, your relationships-“

“now half of what you said isn’t even fucking true-“

“Just so that you might have a slim possibility of living long enough to see your idol, huh? Just so-“

“fuck you, hector.” Sheikh meant it, anger laced in each syllable. “don’t tell me you wouldn’t prostrate yourself silly and gut your insides out for a glimpse of john. i know you wanna jerk off to the memory of being able to meet the god in person so much, that hey you know what, maybe it isn’t such a bad idea to-"

“I wouldn’t give up music!” Hector began screaming. "I would never give up my friends! Not Possum! Not you! Not Wei Ping or Bernard or Yulia or Asf or Vishkar or anyone! Not for a God who was once human anyway-"

Sheikh buried their head into their hands. “you don’t know what you’re saying, hector. being a reaper isn’t all hard work and no fucking around. i won’t have to give up anything. i’ll be a scribe, a librarian. record keeper, archiver. as little field work as possible.”

"You know that’s not how it works-"

"you daft, fucking buffoon! you think i didn’t do my research? of course i know how it works more than any fucking one of you!"

"Oh yeah? Then what about your whole shtick of values and stuff? Weren’t you the one who told me that if you ever killed another carapacian, it was like you would die yourself? Well, then aren’t you just going to be killing yourself over and over and over again? Over hundreds and thousands of years? Is that what you want, Sheikh?"

A bellowing clasp of thunder coincided perfectly with Hector stomping his foot.

“i grew up, hector.” Sheikh met the back of Hector’s head, where his eyes would’ve been and held a determine gaze. "if it means my thousand selves have to die a thousand deaths, then i’ll be glad. if it brings me closer to the promised day, i’ll do it.”

Hector was still having none of it. "You used to berate Isla for having cast away her soul and being an empty, heartless vessel only capable of killing. You hypocritical monster."

"i guess you could call me that."

"We don’t even know when the Promised Day is.” Hector seemed to be grasping at straws now, for a reason, any reason. "We don’t even know if the Promised Day will come."

"it will, because they said it will.” There isn’t a hint of doubt in Sheikh’s voice. "they will come back, even if it’s millions of years later and the end of our civilisation.”

Another rumble, and the sky seemed to crack apart with light, fissures of white splitting the night clouds. Water seemed to trickle down through the seams in the air, and as Hector turned around, Sheikh could no longer tell which droplets were rain and which were tears.

"Then… what about me?"

"i’m sorry, hector.”

The heavens seemed to open up, a flood pouring onto New Earth and extinguishing the last flames of the hearth, the ceremony over and the carapacians scrambling to pack up. Lightening slithered across the sky like serpents locked in fierce battle, flicking their pointed tongues and curling around each other for the upper hand.

Hector didn’t mind the rain pelting his skin, because at least it cleansed the salty aftertaste in his mouth. And he couldn’t stop shaking with grief, even with Sheikh embracing him from behind, holding him tight, silent and just being there for their friend.

"I’m sorry I ruined your special day. Even though none of us knew it’d be your shining moment. I… I fucked it up so bad, because I was selfish and jealous and wasn’t thinking straight and I don’t want to lose you too…"

"hey, hey. hush…” Sheikh did their best to calm Hector down. "you won’t lose me, alright? i’m gonna be here. i’ll always be here. all the more so as a guardian of the night.”

Sheikh could feel the erratic rise and fall of Hector’s chest, the way his bloated stomach would fill and then empty itself, as though trying to purge all the sadness from within. As the rain wrapped around them, it felt almost cathartic, even as the emotions Sheikh tried to dredge up wouldn’t come. They couldn’t sympathise, much less empathise with Hector’s plight, but that at least allowed them to approach this with a clear enough mind. As long as they took care to made sure they weren’t abrasive.

"and well. doesn’t this mean that now both of us will be closer towards meeting our gods, anyway?"

“You mean..?” Hector’s voice hitched by just a fraction.

“someone has to do it,” Sheikh explained. "i’ll make sure they get their pesky scythes off you. no one’s gonna reap you but me, hector. and i sure as hell will bring you to the promised day with me. because you deserve it."

Hector shoulders drooped even further at the suggestion, despite his initial verve. "It’ll be so lonely. I don’t wanna die after everyone else, I don’t…"

"then i’ll keep them all alive for you. every last one of them, they’ll break through millenniums like it’s nothing."

"You can’t do that, Sheikh. You know you can’t."

"we’ll cross that bridge after it’s burnt down. but i promise you, even if you can’t see me, i’ll be here for you, hector. isla haruka and i will be watching over you."

The falling of rain encapsulated Hector’s silence, and what Sheikh assumed, his consent.

"we’re best friends, aren’t we?"

Hector shifted his feet, an awkward shuffle as he turned around to face Sheikh. Despite his puffy eyes, cheeks smeared with streaks of water, and forlorn eyebrows that dipped away from each other, his lips managed to lift themselves in a reluctant grin. He was no longer shaking, except slight shivers from the cold.

“Yeah,” came his soft reply. "Yeah, we are."

* * *

  
“everybody alright?”

“YEAH. THAT SHOULD BE THE LAST OF EM.”

Isla Haruka and Possum managed to seek shelter in one of the huts scattered across the village, having attended to the final moments of the ceremony and getting everyone else sorted out. Their gracious hosts brought them towels, and Possum accepted them, even as Isla Haruka gazed out the windows into the empty town square.

“you okay? you should dry yourself down, that rain just now-"

“THAT WAS JUST A LITTLE DRIZZLE. I’LL CLEAN MYSELF UP AFTER ALL OF YOU ARE DONE.”

“even reapers can catch a cold, if they aren’t careful,” Possum teased, twisting her towel until it coiled into a spring, and then used it to lash out at Isla Haruka, the makeshift whip barely licking her target’s hamstrings.

Possum screamed as Isla Haruka tackled her to the ground, and they rolled about, mock wrestling. Even though the true victor had already been decided, Isla Haruka made sure to rotate half a round too much, such that Possum managed to end up on top, and the Dersite pinned down her Prospitian partner with as much zeal as she could.

“YOU GOT ME,” Isla Haruka grinned, wiggling her fingers as her wrists were bound by Possum’s hands.

“you’re horrible,” Possum sighed, before sitting up and throwing the towel at Isla Haruka. “now i have to wipe down again.”

“I COULD HELP YOU IF YOU’D LIKE,” Isla Haruka offered, before wincing at her cliche statement. “ON SECOND THOUGHT, MAYBE NOT.”

Possum giggled - the dreamy, innocent laugh that Isla Haruka had been drawn to - as she grabbed her own towel to dry herself. Getting up, Isla Haruka gave Possum another awkward grin before returning her glance towards the window.

“something troubling you?”

“YEAH,” Isla Haruka replied, straightforward. She crossed her arms as she leaned against the windowsill. “HECTOR.”

“ah,” Possum sagged, upset at the reminder of her friend’s public breakdown. “well, none of us saw it coming, and at least sheikh’s grown up enough to take ownership for their own screw up."

“HE WAS ALREADY UNCOMFORTABLE AND TROUBLED WITH THE PROSPECT THAT HE MIGHT NEVER SEE ME AGAIN, DESPITE KNOWING HIS ENTIRE LIFE THAT THIS DAY WOULD COME FOR ME. I CAN’T IMAGINE… HOW IT MUST FEEL FOR HIM TO LOSE ANOTHER FRIEND SO QUICKLY.”

Possum crawled to Isla Haruka’s side, curling into a ball at her feet. “well… it’s not like you’ll all be disappearing forever, right?”

“REAPERS DON’T EXACTLY HAVE A LOT OF LEISURE TIME. THE INITIAL PERIOD OF ADJUSTMENT WILL BE THE TOUGHEST, BUT AS THEY’VE SAID, A REAPER ISN’T SOMETHING YOU BECOME. IT’S SOMETHING YOU ARE. IT’S MORE THAN A TITLE, ALONG WITH ITS RESPONSIBILITIES, ABILITIES AND BENEFITS. IT’S A SPECIFIC LIFESTYLE THAT YOU HAVE TO MAINTAIN.”

 

“so… i guess the answer is kinda yes?"

 

Isla Haruka now crouched next to Possum, hugging her own knees to her chest. “BETWEEN BEING PEACEKEEPERS AND SENDING OFF CARAPACIANS… THERE’S TIME TO SEE FRIENDS, I GUESS, BUT NOT MUCH. PLUS IT’S WELL, NOT RECOMMENDED TO HAVE INTERPERSONAL TIES. DUE TO THE NATURE OF UM. THE JOB.”

 

Possum now leaned on Isla Haruka’s shoulder, and the latter girl sighed. “WELL… LET’S NOT TALK ABOUT ALL THIS GLOOM AND DOOM OF THE FUTURE. LET’S FOCUS ON WHAT WE CAN DO NOW."

 

“i’m all ears,” Possum replied.

  
  
“CAN YOU TAKE CARE OF HECTOR FOR ME, PLEASE, POSIE? YOU’RE THE NEXT CLOSEST PEER HE HAS.”

 

  
“i can’t change diapers for that little brother forever-“

 

  
“HE’LL BE FINE,” Isla Haruka assured her. “HECTOR DOESN’T NEED CODDLING. HE’S JUST A SENSITIVE SOUL WITH A DEEP SEATED FEAR OF LONELINESS. HE FINDS SOLACE IN HIS MUSIC BUT HE DOESN’T PLAY FOR HIMSELF.”

 

  
“what a child,” Possum grinned. “selfishly selfless.”

 

“BUT CAN YOU PROMISE ME?” Isla Haruka was intent on getting verbal confirmation.

 

  
"of course i will,” Possum replied, as though there was any other alternative. "hector’s my friend too.”

 

"BUT YOU ALWAYS SEEM LIKE YOU HAVE TO BABY HIM."

 

  
"yeah, but that doesn’t mean i don’t like him, you know? there’s something alluring and attractive about an innocent and naive spirit.” Possum mused. “plus, it would do the musician good to stay passive and muted. someone has to be the animal amongst the two of us.”

 

Isla Haruka grinned at the humorous statement. "YOU REALLY LOVE PUNS, DON’T YOU?"

 

 

 

 

"they’re a coping mechanism," possum joked. “plus, i haven’t had the opportunity to use the ultimate one."

 

"I’M SURE YOU’LL FIND A WAY, POSIE."

 

  
Possum gave a knowing grin. "i know i will."

Isla Haruka seemed relieved, tapping her fingers against her knees. “ALRIGHT. THAT’S GOOD. BUT ANYWAY. HOW ARE YOU HOLDING UP?"

 

"excuse me?"

 

  
"YOU. I MEAN WELL. I AM YOUR FRIEND, AREN’T I? SHEIKH TOO. I MEAN EXPECTATIONS ARE ONE THING BUT FOR THEM TO BE CEMENTED IN WORD. WILL YOU BE ALRIGHT?"

"oh, well. hey, i’ll manage, you know?”

 

  
“THAT’S NOT REALLY AN ANSWER.”

 

“sure it is,” Possum winked, before leaning over and giving Isla Haruka a peck on the cheek.

Isla Haruka went deeper than crimson. “PLAYING DIRTY AGAIN I SEE."

Possum ignored the remark. "you all leave tomorrow morning, right? to the island of spring?"

 

  
"YEAH. CAN YOU PLEASE STOP DEFLECTING.”

 

  
“i’m doing nothing of the sort. you’re just imagini-“

 

  
“PLEASE, POSSUM. I’M SERIOUS HERE.”

 

  
Isla Haruka’s obsidian pupils were as clear and focused as the deepest waters, unmatched in intensity except perhaps Possum's milky irises reflected back at her. The Prospitian had never been one to kid around, and Possum accepted the change in atmosphere as it happened.

 

  
“alright, fine. i wasn’t lying when i said i’d manage, but it sucks. of course it sucks.”

 

  
“I’M SORRY,” Isla Haruka shrugged her shoulders. “MAYBE I SHOULDN’T HAVE-“

 

“no, no,” Possum leaned over, now resting her head on Isla Haruka’s shoulders, before motioning for Isla Haruka to increase the gap between her knees and her chest, and then using both as a cradle for her head as she lay down on Isla Haruka’s groin area. This allowed her to look straight up at the Prospitian. “it’s been great, what we’ve had. i’d do it all over again."

 

“I GUESS,” Isla Haruka gave a sad grin. "IT WAS SHORT LIVED, BUT IT WAS FUN. SO ER, THANK YOU?"

  
  
Possum placed her hand on Isla Haruka’s cheek. “thank you too, love. for everything.”

 

Not a second after those words escaped Possum’s lips, did she start to sit up, lifting her body higher and applying pressure to the back of Isla Haruka’s head after shifting the hand on her cheek to the neck. There was no resistance as the couple locked lips, the kiss lingering for a moment just a bit short.

 

And then it was over, and even the usually unflappable Possum blushed at her initiation.

 

  
“THAT WAS NICE, POSIE.”

 

“oh shush,” Possum slinked backwards into the nest of Isla Haruka’s torso. “maybe you could repay the favour one day."

"HEY. MAYBE WHEN YOUR TIME COMES, IF YOU WANT, I’LL BE THE ONE THERE FOR YOU."

"don’t be so morbid, dear. it’s still way too early for us to be thinking about death." 

Isla Haruka raised her hands in surrender. "I DON’T THINK I HAVE A CHOICE THERE."

"well, then that’s a luxury i have that you don’t. i curse it is a blessing and a curse that carapacians have such naturally long lifespans. our lives belong to us… as well as our deaths.” 

 

Possum reached out, grasping towards a nebulous, abstract sky - beyond the ceiling - symbolistic of their future, but instead Isla Haruka placed her hands in Possum’s. As their fingers intertwined, Possum knew that there was something concrete in the here and now, never mind what may come. She could feel it, the bumps where Isla Haruka’s knuckles were, the smooth joints and plump, meaty palms that let her know that there was someone here.

 

They would always have each other.

 

The couple took their time massaging each other’s hands, as though exploring them for the first and last time, as though every brush over every crevice was a new discovery, as though touch might never come to them again. And then, Possum brought Isla Haruka’s hands to her chest and placed it there, letting them both feel the warmth of being alive, letting them feel the rhythm of blood and breath that kept them going.

 

And it was good.

 

  
“i should get going,” Possum said, just as the rain outside started to let up. "don’t worry about hector, and don’t worry about me. i’ll take care of things here."

 

“YOU’RE A CHAMP, POSIE.” Isla Haruka radiated gratitude even through her stoic features. “I COULD NEVER REPAY MY DEBT TO YOU."

 

Possum waved it off as she got to her feet, smoothing the creases of her attire. "i’m gonna go check up on him and sheikh, kay? and then i guess i’ll see you tomorrow at the send off."

 

  
“ALRIGHT.”

 

Isla Haruka stood up as well, and escorted her partner to the door, holding it wide open in a gesture of explicit chivalry. She bowed, one hand behind her back as Possum gave a curtsy, giggling as Isla Haruka brought aforementioned hand forward to hold Possum’s one last time, bringing it to her lips for a peck.

 

"I LOVE YOU, POSIE. THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING."

 

"i love you too, my island of spring."

* * *

  
Docked in harbour, a humble boat with cream coloured sails bobs along the waves. To the west of our carapacians’ village lay another one, this one with a more significant human and animal population, specialising in maritime activity. The town boasted a magnificent, charming little port, a cobblestone slope leading the three Reaper candidates downwards to the vessel they would board before sailing towards the Island of Spring.

 

Not many would come, but even so almost three dozen turned up to send off the trio. Nothing fancy, certainly nothing celebratory. It was a moment of parting.

 

Each of the three was dressed in their very best. Isla Haruka wore an imposing white coat that both hugged her figure and accentuated her silhouette, with jade and violet highlights decorating the collar. It had been handpicked by Possum not too long ago.

 

Mtendere had a dark, sleeveless vest on top of a flexible, armoured bodysuit, also sleeveless. It had carbon fibre as its base, with carbon nanotubes coating vital areas, all scavenged and put together by the prodigy themselves.

 

And Sheikh opted for a simple red sweater above a beige collared shirt, coupled with dark suit pants. A clear scholarly image they hoped to present.

 

Waiting on the boat was a representative of the Reapers, a middle-aged Dersite who looked beyond his third century. He introduced himself as Baal, and took to the oar after saluting the three new candidates. 

 

“Take all the time you need now, but not too long,” came his gentle, sonorous voice. “For once you step on this boat, there is no turning back. Your final goodbyes, now."

 

Isla Haruka glanced at the crowd behind them. No sign of her two best friends.

She nudged Sheikh, keeping her voice to a whisper. "DID IT GO WELL WITH HECTOR AND POSSUM LAST NIGHT?"

 

  
"i didn’t chance upon your party-drunk fiancee, but i believe i managed to settle things with hector.” Sheikh didn’t seem perturbed by their absence. "i think he understood the situation and that we managed to part amicably. at least i hope, so gods help me.”

 

  
“SO WHY AREN’T THEY HERE?”

 

Sheikh didn’t even bother to shrug. “maybe hector couldn’t stand to witness the departure to our grand odyssey. it’s cool."

 

  
“THEN POSSUM-“

 

  
“might be busy making sure he’s okay. shoulder to cry on and everything. there’s nothing to worry about here.”

 

“BUT SHE TOLD ME SHE’D BE HERE. SHE WOULD AT LEAST TELL ME IF SHE COULDN’T TURN UP…"

 

  
Isla Haruka paced forward to Baal, hands deep in her coat pockets. “EXCUSE ME, BUT I’M WAITING FOR SOME FRIENDS. DO YOU MIND IF WE TAKE-“

 

  
“No rush, sister,” Baal assured her. “They must be important to you for you to come forward, and the least I can do is accede to your request.”

 

Mtendere was understanding that they needed to wait. They leaned against a stone wall that separated the lower levels of the harbour from the rest of the town, whistling and kicking the dust.

 

An additional ten minutes came and went, and Isla Haruka at this stage had become fidgety with worry, already attempting ways to contact Possum but to no avail.

 

  
“FIVE MORE MINUTES,” she said, bowing to Baal and Mtendere. “JUST FIVE MORE. THEN WE’LL TAKE OUR LEAVE.”

 

Baal lifted his chin a fraction. He took Isla Haruka’s word as a promise.

 

She knew it too, how Reapers never speak empty words. She gazed intently towards the town, searching for any semblance of either Hector or Possum.

 

purrm, pa-pum, pum pum prrrrum, pa pa pa prruuuum pa! pa pa prrummm

 

“what was that?”

 

Shouts sprouted from the east side of town like weeds, one by one, and then clamouring together in heaps and bunches. Sensing trouble ahead, Isla Haruka drew her scythe.

 

Baal remained motionless on the boat, a mere spectator.

 

pa pa pam, pa pa pam, pa prruum prruummmm!!!

 

“oh balls, what the flying fuck is that crazed shit doing?” Sheikh squinted, they and Isla Haruka immediately recognising the signature awfulness of their friend’s music. Of the trumpet playing they didn’t even know how to properly pull off.

 

Mtendere, who had been lounging about up till now, decided to pay more attention, jostling with Isla Haruka to take point. Sheikh promptly facepalmed in the presence of such petty squabbling.

 

pam! pam! pam! pa-prrumm, pa!!!

 

From the rooftops, burst Hector, one hand on his ghastly sounding trumpet, and the other on the mane of the bandersnatch. Shrill screams erupted as the town descended into chaos, just as Hector and the bandersnatch hit the road, galloping indiscriminately, wrecking anarchy and mayhem with each step.

 

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME.”

 

“Have some jazz for you soul, you fools!”

 

Sheikh groaned and rolled their eyes, despite feeling a sense of relief within. _at least he’s well enough to be memeing, even as he turns an entire fucking town upside down._

  
Mtendere wasted no time in controlling the damage Hector seemed to be doing, their claws out in a display of confidence. But there was more to Mtendere’s gloves than housing their protrusions, as they took aim, firing jagged, crystalline energy shards at Hector.

 

It was the first time Sheikh saw them in use, and they proved the rumours true - how the genius engineer had built a weapon just as lethal for ranged combat as they were up close. The gloves were outfitted with blasters that could deal serious punishment.

 

Isla Haruka tightened her grip on her scythe, but otherwise took no action.

 

"you batshit insane nincompoop!” Sheikh called out, as the bandersnatch tossed an empty wagon into the air. "did you think that if you were the bad guy, we’d have to take you down or execute some other demented, suicidal fantasy in that empty excuse of a brain you’ve got?"

 

Hector didn’t grace Sheikh with an answer, instead continuing his deafening parade while riding the bandersnatch.

 

“MAYBE I SHOULD HAVE AT LEAST CRIPPLED THE BEAST,” Isla Haruka frowned, shifting into a combat stance.

 

  
Sheikh readied their specibus, stepping forward to back up Mtendere, who was more focused on warding Hector away from damage than hurting him. “no time for regrets, missus. i’m going in-“

 

  
“stop! hector, please!”

 

Even Mtendere turned their head at the familiar sound of Possum’s voice, the plump girl heaving as she dashed out of a corner opposite from Hector. Without a second’s delay, Possum summoned a bulky coat, which she used to wrap herself with into a ball, and proceeded to roll towards Hector at top speed.

 

A lot of things happened in quick succession.

 

Mtendere decided that the charade was over, and leapt into an advantageous position, with the intention of expertly sniping the bandersnatch’s thigh and sending the beast crumpling.

 

By an acute sense or sheer coincidence, Hector gave a vigorous tug at the bandersnatch, violently steering it away from Mtendere’s would-be target point.

 

This made the bandersnatch crash into a fruit stall, the contents of which was sent hurtling Sheikh’s direction, and the beast continued moving westwards, the change in momentum still too strong.

 

Possum continued steamrolling onwards, unaware of the collision she was about to have.

 

Isla Haruka had to make a split second choice, and decided that she couldn’t get to Possum in time, and dived towards Sheikh, bringing them out of harm’s way.

 

Mtendere also decided the same thing, leaping from their vantage point before smashing into Isla Haruka and Sheikh, further disorienting the two.

 

When the dust settled, and the Reaper candidates entangled themselves from their limbs, all they could see was Possum motionless on the ground, a heavily-breathing bandersnatch looming over her, Hector’s features cast in shadow of the buildings around them.

 

For the first half second, Isla Haruka’s heart dropped.

 

For the second, it ricocheted upwards, propelling force into her lungs as she seethed with rage and gave a war cry that could intimidate an army.

 

  
**“HECTOR!** **”**

There was no hesitation this time. Isla Haruka sprung forward, blade of her scythe aimed to maim and scar. Flopping about in his reaction, Hector threw his trumpet at her.

 

A clean swing sliced it cleanly in two, but it meant the bandersnatch was safe, with Isla Haruka now behind the beast and Hector, promptly ready for a second strike.

 

But the beast’s snout went low the moment Hector flung his broken instrument, and scooped the body of Possum, before throwing her into the air-

 

And as the Dersite went airborne, she opened her eyes and flashed her partner the cheekiest smile the carapacians had ever seen.

 

Possum plopped herself squarely onto the bandersnatch, seated in front of Hector as she took the reins, dodging two energy shards Mtendere fired at them. She was howling with laughter, even the bandersnatch giving a low chortle, as she did a victory lap around the plaza, now strewn about with broken bits of property.

 

“you should have seen the look on your faces! priceless!”

 

Isla Haruka dropped her scythe, unsure of what to think any more.

 

Possum then brought the bandersnatch to a halt in front of Sheikh and Mtendere, before pushing a sheepish Hector off the creature, and landing herself.

 

The moment Hector touched the ground, Sheikh pounced on him, pinning the poor Dersite down.

 

“stop, stop!” Possum brought her hands to her mouth, before proceeding to tug Sheikh off Hector. “it’s my fault, it was all my idea!” Even amid her concern, she was still laughing, wiping tears off her eyes.

 

  
Sheikh glared at Possum, even as he let Hector go and got up. “explain.”

 

  
“well, i thought it’d be therapeutic for the both of us, but especially hector. i told him to make a fuss with his new pet, taking care to not actually hurt anybody - we’d clean up all the mess we made. just to see how you would all react you know? a bit of revenge through a harmless prank. and okay, we might have gone a little overboard, but all’s good, yeah?”

 

Isla Haruka had managed to make her way back to the group, her expression one of death.

 

Possum gave her a repentant grin. “sorry love, for frightening you like that. but hector and i decided that the kicker to all of this would be when i decided to… play possum-"

  
“YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE PUN-LOVING CRETIN.”

 

Even as Possum brought both hands into finger guns to fire at Isla Haruka, the Reaper candidate had swamped her partner in a tight embrace, not letting the punchline settle. Possum reciprocated, cuddling her furiously relieved partner.

 

  
“i had you, didn’t i?”

 

  
“DON’T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN, OKAY? PROMISE ME.”

 

“i promise, love, and i’m sorry."

 

By now, the scattered residents of the town had come out of hiding, a few starting to shout at the carapacian children about the mess they had created.

  
  
Possum waved away their concerns, looking annoyed. "i said we’ll clean up after we send off our friends, kay? sheesh, what party poopers.”

 

  
Hector was ambling about in a corner after Sheikh had let him go, but now that Possum had cleared things up, Sheikh turned his attention to him. Walking up to Hector, hands in his pockets, Sheikh struck up a conversation.  “so it looks like you managed to charm the beast to your will then."

 

"I think I just annoyed it with my playing,” Hector shrugged, voice low. “Making it thrash about to get away from the sound. Which… served our purposes well, I guess."

 

  
Sheikh shook his head while grinning, before moving in to ruffle Hector’s head in a sign of affection. “you’ll get better at playing, and one day you’ll be the best. i’m sure of it.”

 

  
“Thanks, Sheikh.”

 

And then Sheikh pulled Hector into a hug - from the front this time, and Hector could feel Sheikh’s fingertips getting a good grip on his back. He sank into his friend’s embrace, letting the weight and warm cuddle him.

 

  
“i’m gonna miss you, you blockheaded dunce.”

 

"Me too, buddy."

 

  
"dullard, clod, ignoramus,” Sheikh breathed into Hector. "simpleton, dolt. i know possum is a master prankster with a penchant for dragging others into her machinations, but just… don’t get yourselves into trouble. alright?”

 

In Sheikh’s tone, Hector could sense that they would have to part ways any moment now. Despite trying his best to keep it in, Hector started shaking, tears falling as he nodded his head.

 

"there, there, now.” Sheikh crouched low with Hector, wiping away his tears. "stay strong. we won't be gone, not really. right, isla haruka?"

 

  
"DAMN STRAIGHT.”

 

  
Isla Haruka and Possum joined the two, helping their friends to their feet. "YOU’RE A GOOD KID, HECTOR. WE’LL ALWAYS BE WATCHING, ALRIGHT?”

 

Through sniffles and sobs, Hector managed out an ‘okay’, and the four of them brought themselves into a group hug, one last time.

 

“i never want to let go,” Possum murmured, but even the moment had to pass. Isla Haruka gave Possum and Hector two light taps, before breaking away with Sheikh.

 

It had been far more than the five minutes Isla Haruka had promised Baal, and Mtendere was already on board. But Baal did not bring up the transgression, instead stepping to one side, as Sheikh, followed by Isla Haruka made their way on board.

 

There were no more goodbyes as Baal untied the rope that anchored the boat to harbour, and the wind weaved itself into the sails. They were off, and after one final glance back at their friends, Isla Haruka and Sheikh faced forward, ready for their future.

 

Hector wiped away his snot and hushed his cries. He had to be ready for his future as well.

 

Sheikh had promised him, and he’d make use of that time. Sheikh was always making more time for him.

 

And Possum? Possum’s gaze lingered on the horizon, watching her dearly loved now no longer hers, and easing that swell in her chest that ached oh so badly. 

 

Deep breaths in, deep breaths out, to the rhythm of the tides and waves. Letting her feelings dull, letting it all recede and build, break and reform, until there stood a Possum entirely new from the one before.

 

She felt much better now, and opened her eyes, no longer looking towards the sea.

 

“time for us to head back, hector.” Possum tugged on Hector, ushering him back where they came from.

 

“After we clean up, right?”

 

“of course,” Possum grinned, looking at the bandersnatch, now curled up and taking a well deserved nap. The sailboat was now nothing more than a speck in the distance, and even though it would be for a long time, Possum and Hector knew they’d see their friends. There would come a day when it would be the four of them again, as carefree as before, as careless as children just looking to have a good time. 

 

But until then, there would be work to do, as always.

 

* * *

  
It was as unceremonious an entrance as any. Like passing from one room to the next, through a perfectly normal wooden door.

 

Five thousand years snapped into a second, the heroes and gods of the new world flashing into existence. Thirteen figures step out of the light, finding themselves in the middle of a great plain, surrounded by undulations of grass and soil, a great metropolis in the distance.

 

It wouldn’t be until a few hours later would the news spread about the return of New Earth’s creators, the Promised Day having arrived, and the four main news outlets jostling for an exclusive to announce the scoop. Within half a day, the entire populace would know, and celebrations would abound amidst the mundane banality of yet another day of life as usual in a time of peace hard fought for.

 

  
But here and now, greeting our heroes there was a single carapacian. And despite his ebony skin they would associate with malice, his demeanour clearly conveyed that he meant no ill will. The sheen of a sturdy exterior masked the years behind his eyes, even as he sat with the foresight of an oracle, and the patience of a monk.

 

“I have been waiting for you, heroes.”

 

That line seemed rehearsal to the point of it being natural, not a quiver to betray the carapacian’s anticipation. As he walked towards the puzzled group with sprightly steps, his nimble fingers already flexing themselves, he wore a graceful grin on his face.

 

He came face to face with his idol, a mere sixteen year old, when he had persisted for millennia. But the boy had no clue, and the carapacian wasn’t about to let slip anything.

  
  
“Hey, John.”

 

If Hector were a child, he would have given a shy wave, spluttered and stumbled on his words, but now he looked towards John Egbert as an equal, both masters of breath in their own right. His fingers cradled the hand crafted flute, resting in a comfortable position and ready for its sound to be heard.

 

  
“hey,” John returned the greeting, sticking his fist out for Hector to bump, and the carapacian obliged. “it’s nice to see someone alive and well on the other side.”

 

“New Earth thrives even in your absence,” Hector bowed, but only by a fraction. “But of course, only because of your guidance before your leave."

 

“This one’s a charmer,” Rose commented from the back. “I like him.”

 

Hector acknowledged the compliment with a wink. He gave himself a moment to take in the crowd - it had taken Hector hundreds of years to get used to the idea of standing in the presence of John, but being in the presence of all your creators at once is a humbling experience, never mind that they’re still a bunch of adolescents. They fought and sacrificed and died to get to where they were, so even in the absence of time, they were to be respected.

 

And then he let the spell fade away. He had only one thing to do, after all.

 

“Heroes,” Hector addressed the thirteen. "I am but a carapacian and I apologise in advance for taking your time, yet I seek audience only with one.” Now, he turned his attention to John, and raised his instrument to his chin. “John, would you do me the monumental favour of listening to my song? I understand you may have many things to attend to, but on account of my being here, please hear me out."

 

  
For perhaps the first time, John Egbert felt the weight of authority, one that an entire civilisation would look up to. For the first time, he felt like he had to behave not as a friend, but a leader.

“Hey…” his voice trailed off, realising that he didn’t have Hector’s name. "That’s cool and all, but listen, I have to-"

"It’ll just be a moment.” Hector didn’t, wouldn’t even let John finish delivering his excuse. “Please." 

  
  
And then just to himself, so soft that it was a mere whisper of his soul. "I’ve waited so long.”

 

John may not have heard Hector’s last statement, but he could sense the breath in which it was made. There was something profound, possibly ancient or even primordial in that soundless plea, and it travelled to John, as dense as he was. I might be out of my depth, he realised, the full implications of being lost in time for five thousand years just starting to dawn on him. This carapacian had lived up to an age John couldn’t begin to fathom, an age that he could and would live to, if only he willed it.

 

In the presence of such resilient sincerity and living history, how could he refuse?

 

  
Giving the grass a light pat to ensure it wasn’t moist enough to stain his pants, John took seat, and so did many of his friends behind him. He glanced at Hector’s instrument, before giving him a nod.

“Sure,” he gave a goofy grin. Come, do your windy thing then.”

 

And Hector, grateful for the opportunity, let the breeze take him where he needed to be, and John, ever acute of each minute vagaries of the wind, swore that for the split second Hector took his first gulp of air before playing, the light gale that blessed the meadows came to a stand still.

 

As if Hector had full command of his element, sought its inimitable strength and channeled them into his lungs.

 

The music Hector played that sunny afternoon: a fluid exhibition of woodwinds - from the flute to oboe, from the piccolo to the bass clarinet - with notes straight from the aria of Mother Nature and an elegiac voice that could only belong to the divine, was the best performance the gods and heroes had ever heard and would ever hear.

 

When it had subsided, and the audience beyond enthralled - something new stirring from 

their deepest, darkest recesses, beneath layers of heart and mind no one would ever discover, like a pinpoint of light waiting to blossom, a star just before its birth - Hector took a bow and his leave, before any of them could thank him with applause.

 

He was there one moment, and then he was not, like an apparition from a dream.

 

  
“Gone with the wind,” muttered one of the gods, and that was all any of them said of the matter, before they fumbled and stumbled towards a city that awaited them.

 

* * *

  
There was no trick of the eye Hector employed for his unintentionally impactful exit, no jape or illusion. He had simply walked off, and why great beings immortal and not reacted the way they did is anyone’s guess.

 

He strolled across the great plains, not at a hobbled pace a man of his age, instead each step requiring great focus and concentration because he wanted to feel the earth beneath him, the soil and loam wriggling beneath his toes, a bed of grass above it to cushion his soles and tickle his calves. When one has lived for so long, they find themselves appreciating the tiniest of details and sensations even more. It kept them anchored to reality, reminded them of the here and now even in the boundless ocean of experience they had journeyed through.

 

  
"if i was you i could die happy as well." 

"Not just yet,” Hector paused, his lips turning upwards into a grin. "Just because I’ve waited my whole life for this, doesn’t meant I’ve lived my whole life for this.”

 

 Just as how he had disappeared from the heroes’ eyes, Sheikh appeared just four paces behind him, their choice of casual attire something that had remained consistent across the epochs and eras.

"It’s nice to see you again, Sheikh.” 

 

There was no need to comment on the chasm of time they had spent apart since their last meeting. Who was counting anymore, really?

 

Sheikh took the four paces such that they were face to face with Hector, who had turned around.

"so, i met dave."

 

  
There were few things that could surprise Hector, but it showed in his voice. “Already?” 

"you know how it is with time folks,” Sheikh gestured, as they both started to sit, facing away from the city. "anyways i just had a little chat with him, chilled out like a couple of cool chaps."

“Well,” Hector lay back, staring at the clouds. “What do you think?

Sheikh continued to stay seated, glancing at their friend. "he’s a pesky bugger of a trickster. a hilarious, anti comical realist who’s only human in his struggles. but there’s a reason i’ve continued to respect him even after millennia."

"Same here with John. There’s a certain charm when it comes to a naive an innocent spirit, one that I’ve always found myself unusually drawn to."

 

  
Hector found himself turning to his friend when he heard Sheikh laughing to themselves. “Did I say something wrong?”

 

  
“no, nothing,” Sheikh waved off. “just thought that isla haruka would’ve wanted to hear that. she would’ve loved it.”

 

  
“So. What did you all talk about? You and Dave.”

 

Sheikh now decided it was the right time to lay down on the grass. “some mutual grievances i guess, as if we couldn’t be more funereal right off the bat. dave confided in me, as one of the few people in existence who could possibly understand him, about his long lasting depression."

 

"I’m not sure if you’re being ironic here, or if he was-"

 

"nah,” Sheikh confirmed. "just because i spoke to a dave doesn’t mean it’s the dave you saw just minutes ago. this dave, is one ageless and timeless on a scale beyond anything you or i can imagine."

 

"Figured just as much."

 

  
“he is in a very unique position, even amongst the immortal god tiers, being a hero of time with the ability to time travel. normally when you zip around the continuum, you’re only acting on borrowed time, capiche? your lifespan stays the same, even if you time-clone yourself such that you have twenty of you constantly travelling into the past to carry out some monumental task, if we’re talking about keeping in the loop of the alpha. you’re just going to die earlier than others, chronologically.”

 

  
Hector could sympathise with Dave before Sheikh finished explaining. “But Dave can’t die normally. He could effectively live so much more than any of his peers and they’d be none the wiser, and himself in a very lonely position with no one to understand his struggles. Some infinities are larger than others, in the end.”

 

  
Sheikh nodded, staring at the passing clouds. “those poor sixteen year olds don’t know it yet. and i mean, such solitude would obviously bring about suicidal thoughts, but you know dave.” Sheikh stopped, before backing up. “okay maybe you don’t, but for someone who’s died more than once, and deals with it in spades, he’s not exactly willing to transition into the permanent afterlife. as he told me, death is one thing. oblivion and eternity is another."

 

  
“So, did you offer him any advice?”

 

“just a bit, as much as my positioned allowed. i was able to give some perspective i suppose, being a reaper and all. even throughout his endless tapestry of experiences, i doubt he had to take as many lives as i have. quite the pacifist, that chivalrous knight."

 

"But at least, you share an unusually prolonged lifespan with him, do you not? Reapers are essentially eternal-"

 

"i’m not going to be eternal.” Sheikh said those words like they were law. "there will come a time when i will have to lay down my proverbial scythe, pull back the hood and pass on my mantle. we just get to choose, and i will choose as such."

 

  
Hector rolled over onto his stomach, but kept his gaze on Sheikh. "That’s the fortune you get for denouncing a normal life I guess. Will you choose for me? You have been, but the final choice you must make, it dawns on me sooner than I would expect, doesn’t it?"

 

  
“erm. well. you’ve put me in an awkward position, hector.”

 

“You can be frank with me, Sheikh. Earlier I did express my will to carry on living if I am allowed to, but am I? Will I be able to walk away from this conversation as carefree as before, a vagabond musician left to traverse the land?"

 

"ALAS, WE CANNOT LET YOU LEAVE, HECTOR. I HAVE MY DUTY, EVEN IF SHEIKH MIGHT BE RELUCTANT TO CARRY IT OUT."

 

“hey,” Sheikh groaned, clearly annoyed. "who ever said i wasn’t going to."

 

"Isla Haruka.” Hector pushed himself up onto his knees, before standing up to greet his other long lost friend. "You came too."

 

The Reaper looked regal in her robes, the trimming of her overcoat meant to elicit a very strong response in its fashion, alternating bright marigold, cyan, wisteria, harlequin and rose as it swept to the earth. She held her scythe like a staff planted into the ground, the curve of the blade framing her figure. Humble head high, Isla Haruka had a proud grin plastered on her face.

 

"HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO COME, WHEN I’M ALREADY HERE?"

 

"Good one!” Hector chuckled, extending his arms to shake her hand. "I wouldn’t mind those words being the last I hear."

 

Isla Haruka swatted his palm away after the niceties. "SILLY BOY. BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR."

 

  
Hector straightened up now, his lean figure not in the least bit frail. "Please don’t call me that anymore. I’m a great deal the same age as you. A fraction taller even, the last time we measured."

 

"YOU’RE DIGRESSING FROM THE POINT, HECTOR. STOP DEFLECTING."

 

"Maybe you’re just too scared, that I might’ve finally surpassed you? Or are you faking a memory lapse after all those years-“

 

In a comic display of frustration, Isla Haruka grabbed Hector by the wrists, spinning him around until both their spines mashed into each other, both standing erect like the finest monuments to their beings. Sheikh did the honours of comparing their heights, before pulling away and declaring Isla Haruka the decisive victor.

 

"HAPPY NOW?"

 

"I swear you’re on tiptoes. Or maybe it’s the coat. Sheikh, are you sure you only measured vertically-"

 

“HECTOR-"

 

"Alright, alright. Sheesh. My time’s up, I guess.” Hector threw his arms up. "Need everything be so dramatic?”

 

“YOU’VE BEEN AS STIFF AS A ROD EVER SINCE I CONFIRMED YOUR FINAL HOUR."

 

Hector visibly relaxed at the accusation. “I was just trying to be as tall as you.”

 

Isla Haruka crossed her arms, clearly done with jokes. Hector then slumped in defeat, before slinging his arms around her in a hug. “Alright, fine. Thanks for being here for me, Isla Haruka.”

 

“NO PROBLEM, KIDDO,” Isla Haruka returned the gesture, holding her friend tight. “IT’S THE LEAST I CAN DO."

 

"you alright with this?” Sheikh asked, as Hector pulled away and started dusting his clothes.

 

"Does it matter if I’m not?"

 

Sheikh sighed, rolling their eyes in affection. "yes, you insufferable halfwit. you’re our friend."

 

“Well.” Hector’s voice raised a bit, as though fighting over the wind to be heard. "There are always going to be regrets that I couldn’t live longer. That I couldn’t play every single song, that I couldn’t befriend everyone, or help more people. But I’ve lived my life to the fullest and accomplished almost all the things that matter, so I’m fine. It’s a miracle I’m even here today, anyway."

 

Now Hector held both friends by the hand, the three of them in a line. "Thank you for that, Sheikh. And you too, Isla Haruka. Now that the Promised Day has arrived, I hope you’ll be able to meet whoever you wish to."

 

Isla Haruka shrugged, before twirling her scythe with her free hand. "I’LL LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO BUTT HEADS WITH THE GODS, ALL IN GOOD TIME. OUT CRAB KARKAT. MAYBE EVEN ROSE COULD TAKE A LEAF OF WISDOM FROM MY BOOK OF BOUNTIFUL BLESSINGS."

 

"a book she no doubt borrowed from my extensive library of shenanigans."

 

Sheikh had to swerve to the right, but Isla Haruka still managed to punch them in the shoulder. In that moment, it felt like they were children again, fresh out of the vat without a care in the world. Another testament to the heroes, creating a reality where carapacians were free to live as they are, adopting a proper learning curve to maturity instead of being soldiers thrown onto a battlefield within seconds of birth.

 

And so we come to this, Hector thought, never wanting to let go of his friends.

 

"IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE YOU MIGHT WANT TO DO OR SAY?” Isla Haruka always got straight to the point. "ANY LAST REQUESTS?"

 

Hector shook his head. Everyone he wanted to be with was right here.

 

"well then, let’s begin."

 

"Wait. The both of you?"

 

"WOULD YOU HAVE IT ANY OTHER WAY?"

 

He didn’t have to think twice. “No,” He replied, and then another time for certainty. "No I wouldn’t."

 

The three of them formed a sort of triangle, hand in hand, as Isla Haruka recited a customary prayer, a litany of passing she had spoken to a million different souls.

 

  
"THERE IS NO GLORY OR SHAME IN DEATH. IT IS WHAT IS, AS PERENNIAL AS THE GRASS, AS CYCLICAL AS THE SEASONS. SPRING WILL COME, THE FLOWERS WILL BLOOM, AND WE WILL ALL MEET AGAIN, ON AN ISLAND FAR ACROSS AN OCEAN BEYOND THE VEIL, PAST THE MIST."

And then they broke apart, each Reaper drawing their strife specibus. Isla Haruka’s phantom white scythe had its blade angled at Hector’s neck, while Sheikh brought out a book from their finest collection, inscribed in it spells and magics that would ease even the greatest beasts into eternal slumber.

 

  
“may you travel safe,” Sheikh said, sigils and runes in a dozen lost languages starting to encircle them. “i love you, hector.”

 

  
“I LOVE YOU, HECTOR.” Isla Haruka said, steeling herself for the painless strike she must deal in tandem with her friend and colleague.

“Oh wait. Hold up.”

 

One could here the collective sigh of the two Reapers as they lowered their weapons, the relief they had in even delaying their burden by the slightest.

 

"Come to think of it, I’ve never properly played for the both of you, have I?"

 

It was a rhetorical question, and Hector didn’t need or want to hear anymore words from them. Those last phrases were everything he could’ve hoped to remember them by in his last moments.

 

  
"I know just the instrument for this.”

 

And Hector drew from his own strife specibus, one never intended for harm or protection. He had requested for the master craft smith Mtendere to construct this for him, at no small commission. The unique instrument at first glance seemed to resemble a baritone saxophone in its shape and size, but that was where the similarities ended. 

 

It had near triple the buttons and valves of any known woodwind, a testament to its potential range. The body curved and snaked in an intricate pattern, allowing for a greater length for the sound to travel through but without a single compromise in functionality. It was not made out of brass, instead cut from a certain kind of gem, perhaps an amalgamation of many. Knowing Mtendere, the instrument was probably tested at every possible frequency, checking its resonance and how it would match timbre and volume of sound. On a technical level, it was fine tuned to a specificity that might never be replicated again.

 

"It’s a shame that Possum’s absent, but it’ll do.” Hector took his time in preparing the instrument. "She did hear me while she was still amongst us, after all.” 

 

He had spent thousands hours on this instrument, but always in private, its sound a sacred extension of Hector’s deepest self, never meant for an audience. Above all instruments, this was the one Hector was a true master of, and how could he not be? Each thoughtful fingering and swell of breath was tailored and calibrated just for him.

 

What his friends would never know, was that even for John, Hector did not believe this special instrument was fit to channel his soul. This was the performance that really mattered, after all.

 

“Well here I go. I love you, Isla Haruka. Sheikh.” He gazed upon them with tender eyes, one full of child-like wonder and sagacity of the years. "I love the both of you."

Surrounded by the two friends he loved the most, with an instrument made just for him in his hands, Hector breathed his last.

 

Into a serenade ripened by a life blooming for thousands of years, his music carried into the wind and beyond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The very first time I wrote ‘Serenade’, it was a wildly different story, and one that I felt more than lacking. After ample reflection and the release of the post-canon content, I found myself better able to construct and bring across what I wanted. The characters were more fresh (despite recycling the same few tropes), the universe more grounded, the conflicts more believable. Whether it was because of time or a solid canon foundation to build upon, this story has been allowed to improve.
> 
> The themes and setting (a story about our heroes’ legacies being celebrated by those that came after them, from a predominantly carapacian point of view) have largely remained the same, but there are also stark differences. I thought I enjoyed penning Sarabande the most of the three, but I can’t quite say that after this re-work of Serenade. If anyone is curious as to how the first (quite horrible) draft went, I’d be more than happy to send a copy, so that you all can see how this story has grown.
> 
> 2016 has been quite a journey. Here’s to the new year, and many more others ahead.


	3. Anthem

A peculiar thing, even after all this time, realising that you were named after a colour that would symbolise you for an eternity to come.

 

Even more ironic, when that colour doubled as an expression that defined the life of an immortal, which is basically your every waking moment, like a bad case of foreshadowing.

 

Jade Harley, professional semipotent demigoddess, personally identifying as demidog, also known as the Witch of Space, alongside a multitude of titles and platitudes. She woke, just like the billions upon billions of after mortals she’s responsible for. Another night of good sleep, she thought, sleep she had managed to control for millions and millions of years.

 

Dave’s not in again, she realised, the other side of her sheets empty. That one’s been prone to melancholic swings of mood, especially since the passing on of sister, his partner, and his best friend. Those were choices they made, she’d remind him, and each time he could only give a bitter nod.

 

Each in their own time, given their own space.

 

What to wear today? Fashion for fashion’s sake disinterested her long ago - almost every permutation of dress both eccentric and aesthetic had been used up, and even the novelty of simply showing up in a dog-onesie had worn off. But determined to change things up every now and then, she cycled through her wardrobifier for something she hadn’t worn in a while. 

 

She picked two layers. First, a modest office attire, a cream based shirt with an ever changing texture that swirled like thick milk in coffee, like galaxies spiralling into the universe. That was matched with a simple, dark, pleated skirt that strayed halfway down her thighs. And the last layer was a dark green jacket a la Calliope, her symbol of space embroidered on the breast pocket. No glasses today.

 

The last time she’d worn this exact getup, according to the history function, had only been about twelve thousand years ago. Jade decided to do her hair up in a bun, and slipped into black, mid knee socks with a pair of sneakers camouflaged as professional dress shoes. She had to be presentable enough for the inspection, after all.

 

At least one thing never really changed about her. Jade found comfort looking in the mirror, and the same old face would stare back at her. It wasn’t that she couldn’t age, rather, she wouldn’t. Sixteen or sixteen million, it never made a different for her, and Jade decided that she’d be fine looking like a perpetual adolescent on the cusp of adulthood, even though others found it disquieting. Another excuse for her to not ‘act her age’, whatever that meant.

 

When she decided that she was happy with how she looked today - the entire affair taking no more than ten minutes, she bounced lightly on her heels and took to the air, floating to the transportalizer that would bring her out of her room.

 

There wasn’t much point in needing a temple the size of Olympus for her, or any of the others. Jade was comfortable enough to just remodel her house, which was spacious enough anyway. She greeted her various staff - humans, carapacians and trolls alike - as she drifted to the main door, grabbing a quick sandwich off the counter.

 

“…AND THEN THAT BITCH DECIDES TO SLEEP IN AND CANCEL LIKE, EVERY FUCKING LAST APPOINTMENT. NO REASON AT ALL. I MEAN WHATEVER LESS WORK FOR ME, BUT I PITY WHOEVER HAD TO WORK WITH HER. MUCH LIKE I PITY MYSELF… HA!”

 

Jade raised her eyebrows as she passed the desk of her concierge, a fiery troll every bit Karkat’s descendant. Kerkae Vantas didn’t so much as flinch at the sight of her boss, sipping away at her coffee with apathetic abandon.

 

"MORNING JADE,” she raised her cup. “YOU’LL HAVE TO EXCUSE MY LANGUAGE, BUT YOU’RE LITERALLY THE ONLY ONE I COULD EVER USE THAT WORD ON."

 

"Har har. Very funny,” Jade replied, casually sending a tennis ball towards Kerkae, spatially programming the floating sphere to harass the insufferable personal assistant for the next hour. “If anyone needs me, you know where I’ll be.”

 

Kerkae sighed as she began the arduous task of swatting away the annoying ball. “I’LL JUST TELL THEM YOU’RE SUPERVISING THE IGUANAS AND OLIVES’ BIENNIAL FENCING COMPETITION."

 

Jade managed a forced smile before leaving, enjoying every moment of the passive aggressive banter Kerkae provided, something she was very much lacking in Karkat’s absence.

 

What am I even thinking? she sighed, shoulders heavy. He wasn’t even a grouchy grinch towards his final centuries. 

 

She shook her head, getting the depressing thought out of her head. This was no way to start a day as important as this! She slapped both cheeks hard, and puffed them up, letting the sting turn them rosy as she diverted her thoughts elsewhere. 

 

There were always many monumental days given the sheer amount of history Jade had lived, but few would come close to today, if they managed to accomplish what they wanted to. But no matter the result, it sure was going to be exciting, and Jade kept that feeling fresh in her mind.

 

She took two steps onto the ocean that embraced her little island, the silly illusion of walking on water something that still amused her to this day. And after tapping the surface just a bit to create a splash and ripples, she stared across the horizon, her destination taking shape in her mind as she got ready for flight.

 

"I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day."

 

* * *

Blaring trumpet sounds kickstarted the riotous anthem, and only seconds later does the heavy percussion come in with solid beats and crisp claps. 

 

Y reached out to disable her alarm, only to end up stumbling out of her bed. Despite initial grumbling due to the shock value of loud music, she decided to lie on the ground, listening to the rest of the song. It was an inspiring piece, originally composed by Clark P. Owell and then rearranged by Tobias Foxwood, but who really cares about music history anymore? But Y’s a nerd like that.

 

As the final notes of the flute solo died off and the strings fade into their overtones, Y rolled herself from the edge of her bed and then up on her feet. An important day of work lay ahead of her, perhaps the most important day.

 

Geneticists didn't have much need for presentation, but Y wanted something to commemorate the occasion. She chose a silver wig with thin curls down her sides and the bulk swept into a messy topknot. As for the dress it was meticulously curated, a violet blouse that flared at its sides to give her more volume. For the finishing touches, she donned her white researcher’s coat, that extended to an inch above her ankles. All in the name of science.

 

She was tempted to put on her yellow sclera contacts, but that’d be too much of a troll, quite literally. Y was happy enough as a carapacian, even with her grey skin, and she was sure that her co-workers wouldn't appreciate the act.

 

Work was a mere ten minutes away, as Y rented an apartment nearby to make things convenient for her. Not that anybody really needed to nowadays, but obstacles and challenges in life made things more purposeful and exciting. Much like why there were those who choose to play on the hardest difficulty setting of a game.

 

The station that housed the Wayfarer stretched over acres of land, occupying the area of a small nation. It had three main, rectangular blocks that housed various facilities and laboratories, with the dome at its center the launch site for the shuttle. 

 

“Top of the morning to you folks!” she greeted, tipping an imaginary hat at colleagues she had never seen before and would never see again. How could she, with millions working on this? She grabbed a quick bite from the cafeteria from Block Mica, before getting in line for the transportalizer pad that would bring her to the hemisphere where she’d be with the other three thousand privileged crew.

 

“Another thirteen seconds, and I would’ve kicked you out of the culture for incompetence,” rang the first words that came into Y’s head. “We can make do without a biologist, it’s a mere courtesy extended by the administration. Especially since you don’t double as our medical specialist.”

 

Y kept a tight smile on her face. “Great to always know you’re at the peak of your ball game, eh  Taj?”

 

Tajinder Bhattacharya stared at Y with sharp, judgemental eyes. “Call me that one more time, and I’ll see to it that your ineffable enthusiasm be snuffed out with a well-calligraphed letter of resignation with your signature on it.”

 

Paying little heed to her boss, Y gave a mock salute before getting to work. The other eight members of her culture were already present, and she scurried over to her fellow carapacian, who filled the roles of both Physicist and Engineer.

 

“Not now, Y,” came the tired sighs of Gimel, rotating holographic blueprints and scanning for anomalies through her files. “Make sure all your nonsense is in order, and then maybe this won’t be a complete disaster.”

 

As though on cue, the designated Musician, Yehudi, rattled out a cadence that was meant to be uplifting, but ended up on the bloated side. Few paid attention to him.

 

“Listen up,” said Tajinder, and everyone paused their various assignments to take stock of their Captain’s orders. “I’ve got a tip that Jade herself might be inspecting our very culture today, high brass claims that it’s a random pick, so whatever. You know the goddess and her expectations, and they aren’t high. I have every confidence that you lot can meet them, it’s a matter whether you want to or not.”

 

“aLWAYS GOING TO BE TROUBLE WHEN THEY VOICE IT THAT WAY,” came the staccato mumblings of Mavick Nitram. “pUSHING ALL RESPONSIBILITY ON US. nICE ONE CAPTAIN!”

 

“It can’t be as disagreeable as you are implying,” Y offered. “Is there any way I could provide efficacious assistance?"

 

“hEY, LOOK. iF YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE DOING COULD YOU KINDLY BUZZ OFF.” Mavick grit his teeth. “aS SOMEONE WHO WALTZED HER WAY INTO THE HEMISPHERE ON ACCOUNT OF SOME LUCKY BREAK, I DON’T THINK YOU’RE ANY WHERE NEAR QUALIFIED ON THE MATTERS OF HISTORY OR LANGUAGE, EVEN THE ADMINISTRATIVE STUFF.”

 

Y frowned, but held her position. “You sure? I mean I already have all my own affairs in order, and I agree that I have been quite fortuitous, the chain of events propelling me here quite unusual, but-“

 

“He told you to buzz off. Can you get a clue?”

 

“Ah, Doctor,” Y’s cheeks lifted, and she didn’t turn to acknowledge her colleague. "I do believe I haven’t gone for my examinations this quarter.”

 

Hard heels clacked behind Y before they crunched into a stop. Y felt a hard hand on her shoulder but didn’t shrug it away.

 

“Don’t sass me, junior. You’re not being helpful in _any_ way, so why don’t you just sit in your little corner and let the true professionals handle things, hmm?"

 

“I am a part of this project too, albeit my late entrance into it! For the past four hundred odd days, I’ve devoted every waking moment to this enterprise, and today-“

 

Nirnah walked in front of Y, forcing the carapacian to face the troll. She had typical office attire, the indigo shirt mirroring her hemocaste nearly tucked into her waist high dark pants. Her doctor's coat was the most intimidating, tinted a sky blue, the collar skirting her lips, the golden Wayfarer crest emblazoned on her left sleeve just below the shoulder. “Four hundred? Try four thousand. I could sleep for the next decade and you still wouldn’t be close enough-"

 

“Well Nirnah, excuse me but while I wish you could indulge in hebetudinous somnambulism, I-“

 

Nirnah snapped her fingers, once, and it captured the attention of the entire culture. “Listen here, freak. You don’t the right to address me by my first name, and I’m this close to invoking your rights to my symbolhight.”

 

Y stood her ground, fists clenched. “Point taken, Miss Rorxir.”

 

“There’s no need for drama here, but we’re all going to need you to know your place. Sure you’re young, peppy, somehow manage to spout that nonsense lowlander dialect, nothing wrong with that. What we have issue with, is the fact that you got here by pure fucking luck, and continue to strut your stuff for it. So you can smile, and continue your annoying yammering, but stop pretending like you’re an asset when you’re not."

 

"Don’t speak for the others,” Y replied, before turning to address the culture. "Does everybody else feel that way? That I’m nothing more than a polite, stand-up cut-out that’s useless to the Wayfarer? That-"

 

“Hey, _freak_!” There was venom in the insult, and Y felt it sting her, the attack on her very identity shaking her. "Can it! I don’t know what Roxy and Calliope saw in you when they scooped you out of the gutters of Block Bozha into Nexus, except maybe another specimen to fill their cupboard of curiosities, something that could sate their immortal ennui for just a moment. I bet they’d already forgotten you, poor thing!"

 

Y couldn't show the hurt she was feeling, if it would only be construed as further weakness. "Miss Rorxir, I can’t imagine what unfortunate, misunderstood quarrel you might have with me, but for the sake of the culture, I shall turn away. But make no mistake, I have not conceded, I will-"

 

"Alright stop. Enough. Both of you shut up."

 

Tajinder decided to intervene, from their post high above, leaning through the railings that demarcated their culture’s control center.

 

"I'm putting a restraining order on the both of you. During the expedition on Wayfarer, neither of you are to come close to or interact with each other, unless absolutely necessary in moments of crisis. Otherwise, use intermediaries, caliche?"

 

Nirnah disengaged at the command, her coat fluttering in a graceful arc as she turned to leave, walking back to her workstation. Mavick cast an unsympathetic glance at Y, before continuing to handle his files. The carapacian gave a sigh of relief, but Tajinder still gazed down at her, disapproving.

 

"Y, don't see this as me conceding to you. I'm merely keeping the peace on board, not bending to some melting pot ideology.”

 

Tajinder’s statement shocked Y, causing her to shuffle uncomfortable. “Um, thank you, boss-"

 

"I’m biased towards the other, and I know it. I fight the other for a living. And Y, I hate your guts, and I hate you, whatever amalgamation of nonsense you are.” Tajinder had to wipe the spit that threatened to come out of their mouth. "Is that unfair? Yes. Suck it up, life’s unfair. The nonsense affirmative action to ensure inclusion of each of the four species is an insult to meritocracy, and I think it’s unfair, and it’s cost me many other human colleagues. Do I whine about it like a child? No. So, you best-"

 

"Yo, capt. Drop it.”

 

A chair from the far left corner swivelled around, showing the displeased expression of the Geologist. She wore a messy pixie cut that framed her sharp features, golden eyes shaped like a falcon’s. Next to her, the Physicist-Chemist wrung their hands, unsure of what to do.

 

“I know as humans we pioneered social darwinism and all sorts of horribly misrepresented ideas that I know you subscribe to, and that’s cool. But now, you’re on a self-righteous spiel, and I’m here to tell you to just stop. We have work to do."

 

Even as she confronted their Captain, she assumed a laid back position, still resting in her chair. But she never averted her gaze, and Tajinder adjusted their tie as they relented.

 

"Pardon me, then. Carry on, Anthea.”

 

Anthea Saroyan gave a curt nod, before resuming her work with Du Yan Ling, the Physicist-Chemist already running their fingers through their bald scalp in anxiety.

 

Just like that, the drama dissolved, and the culture reverted to its usual humdrum of busy work.  Y was left disoriented, disheveled in the center of it all, before creeping off to a side to get a breather. Her wig slouched down her forehead as she slumped against the wall, and she had to perk up her topknot. When she calmed down, she made her way to Anthea and Yan Ling.

 

“Greetings,” she said, waggling her fingers and keeping her voice low. “I hope I’m not disturbing anything-“

 

“No, no,” Anthea waved her over, her other hand pointing out something to Yan Ling. “It’s cool.”

 

Y pulled a chair, and made herself comfortable. The first few months on board Wayfarer in this culture had her so immersed in work, she never really got to know much of the crew, especially not those specialising in the humanities. Anthea was either in her late twenties or early thirties, one couldn’t really tell. Her intimidating features were softened by her generally relaxed attitude, and Y never managed to appreciate her colleague much. Behind her caramel hair and freckles was a kind soul seeking justice, and that was nice.

 

"Thank you for sticking up for me back there,” Y said. "It’s a shame I’ve never spoken at jovial length with you before, kind miss."

 

“It’s really no problem,” Anthea grinned, before her expression became more serious. “Oh, by the way, don’t hit on me. I know you’re gay, I’ve heard, and if it helps to establish boundaries quickly, I’m ace."

 

Y blinked once. “Of course, Anthea. I hope we haven’t got off on the wrong foot.”

 

“We haven’t. Most humans aren’t as bitter and cynical as ol’ Tajinder up there. Ain’t that right, Yan Ling?”

 

Adjusting their glasses, the bald scientist nodded vicariously, before his hands went into a flurry of animated signs.

 

“This one just wants to work without trouble,” Anthea smiled, pointing at them with her thumb. “Anyway, we were just finishing up. They can take over from here.”

 

Now Anthea brought her legs up, crossing them and leaning forward. “So, what’s up? Need help?”

 

“I was going to ask the same of you,” Y replied. “Geneticists are quite the specialists but we are flexible enough to bend our backs around multiple disciplines. 

 

“You do have a peculiar way of speaking,” Anthea mused. “Not that it’s a problem, but I just really haven’t heard your particular dialect in a while. To think the carapacians of old used to converse like this. Very impressive vocabulary.”

 

"Just a knack for reading and scouring arcane dictionaries, I assure you.”

 

Silence stretched as Y figured out how to follow up. She wasn’t bad at small talk, but somehow the words seemed lost to her. Especially with Anthea’s intense gaze, it seemed to make Y more conscious about herself.

 

“You know, you aren’t useless.” 

 

Y looked taken aback at the comment, but Anthea now placed her hands in Y’s lap. “I know you’re anxious, and with good cause. Biologists get all the hate because their job is what comes after. You might have little to do with getting the Wayfarer started, but in the actual mission? You are essential, perhaps the most important element. I don’t want you to forget that.”

 

“Thank you,” Y put her hands above Anthea, squeezing them. "I guess we can be a wee bit myopic huh?"

 

"It’s always hard to envision the future, especially an unlikely one we struggle and fight for,” Anthea replied. "But that’s how they did it, didn’t they? Against all odds, they did it."

 

Anthea gazed towards the ceiling, and Y followed suit, glancing at the outside. Their culture was built horizontally with respect to Wayfarer, and it was artificial gravity that kept them grounded without losing their sense of orientation. In that respect their ceiling was their window, and before long it would be their only gateway into the infinite expanse of space.

 

That promise gave them hope, and it gave them their future. Through expectant lips, Y managed to part them in an expression of wonder.

 

"And they’ll do it again."

* * *

“Welcome to Nexus, Jade.”

 

Jade acknowledged off the greeting, strutting into the heart of the Wayfarer project. The scaffolding leading up to the ship had been mostly removed, leaving only a skeleton that would fall apart on launch.

 

Wayfarer was a monument on its own, a testament to engineering. It was a sleek vertical column, with a translucent ring around its center that would act as the bridge and command center of operations on its mission. The shuttle was immaculate in design, a three dimensional jigsaw puzzle pieced together, the fault lines clear and symmetrical.

 

Walking the grounds before getting on board was Jade’s first order of business. It was just nice interacting with the staff, getting final affairs in order, and just getting a glimpse of the big picture from the outside.

 

There was a familiar face already waiting for her, the glances the employees cast leading the way. As she approached, he took his hands out of his pockets, extending them into a bear hug

 

“Jade! A pleasure, as always."

 

"Great to see you too, Grandpa," Jade teased, giving a salute before hugging him.

 

Before her was a strapping adult male who didn’t look a hair above fifty. Jake English wore a sleeveless shirt and vest that accentuated his modest arms, white above black, complete with his signature bow tie in his colour. He gave off an aura of hope - quite literally, the white and gold hues encircling him in transient wisps that was more a trick of cosmetics than any display of actual power. The flecks were powdery, and some stuck onto his clothing and sparkled, standing out more on his black shorts than his vest.

 

"I still can’t get over the fact that you do look old enough to be a young grandfather,” Jade tiptoed, attempting to compare heights with the grown Jake. 

 

"You know me Jade,” Jake laughed, stroking his aftershave. "I’ve always digged the more mature look. I could say the same for you, remaining the same after all these years.”

 

“Some things need to remain constant,” Jade replied. “I’m so glad you could make it, it must’ve been quite rushed for you."

 

  
Jake dismissed her remarks. “It’s nothing. I was just leaving Golgotha anyway, so there’s no problem."

 

“A touching family reunion we have here, don’t we?"

 

Averting her gaze, Jade saw the lady floating into the docking area at the heart of Nexus.

 

“Roxy!” she waved, almost bouncing on her toes.

 

Of the three, Roxy had opted for the flashiest get up. Her shoulder length curls popped at their sides, dyed in pastel amaranth to match her intricate mask, a gradient of hot pink to orchid, embroidered with sequins and jewels of the most exotic kind, sewn in the shape of a tiger’s face. The rest of her attire was a regal gown drawing inspiration from the Void palette, and it was like midnight moulded itself to fit her figure. Her train draped behind her as it faded into mist, giving Roxy an ethereal, nebulous quality. 

 

She looked like young lady exuding elegance, much like the kind of woman Rose would describe of her mother in her heyday. Older than Jade, definitely, but younger than Jake.

 

“Send my regards to Strider Edgier,” Roxy curtsied to Jake, her gloves barely lifting her dress. "Quite the hermit these days, isn’t he?”

 

“I could say the same about Dave,” Jake deflected, turning to Jade. “Still the same?”

 

Jade only shrugged. “Well, he’s not here.”

 

“Point taken,” Roxy nodded, her features softening for a moment, before crinkling into a mischievous frown as she chided Jake. “And dear Mr English, if you wanted to move away the spotlight from whatever secret, personal project you and Dirk are working on, you only need ask.”

 

Jake let out a bellow, clutching his waist in an almost comical fashion. “As astute as always, my dear Madame Lalonde! I afraid my manners have been lacking, I’m not quite the carapacian I used to be.”

 

"You might want to dial down on that," Jade winced, rubbing her arm. "Not exactly appropriate."

 

"Of course, Jade," Jake straightened up, less of the bombastic drama in his tone. “Sorry. Although I guess I should apologise to the carapacians."

 

Jade waved it off, arms on her hips as she gazed at the Wayfarer. "A thing of beauty, isn't it? And to think that three of us would be gathered here today, a rare thing in itself!"

 

Roxy put an arm around Jade’s shoulder. "Anything to celebrate your achievements, love. D-

 

"Wayfarer is yours as much as it is mine,” Jade argued. "The expedition and its results belong to everyone-"

 

"Yes, but credit has to be given when credit's due. After all, Wayfarer was always yours and Dave's project to begin with."

 

Jade framed the Wayfarer with her fingers, but only by extending an L-shape with the fingers of her right hand. “If only he could see this.”

 

“I know he would’ve loved it,” Roxy sighed.

 

Just then, Nexus seemed to descend into hushed tones, everyone concentrating on Jade in expectation.

 

Holding her pose, Jade shrugged, jabbing her friends. “What on earth..?"

 

“Ah,” Jake grinned, straightening out his vest, looking at the gleam in the employees’ eyes. “They want you to do the thing.”

 

Jade brought her hand down and her shoulders slumped as she groaned. She knew exactly what _thing_ that was in great demand from her.

 

“Hey!” Jade shouted, raising her voice without malice so that she could be heard. “This meme can’t last forever, you know!"

 

“We’re sorry, Jade!” came a reply from the middle levels. “But it never gets old to see it!”

 

A chorus of embarrassed laughter could be heard throughout the docks.

 

“Well,” Jade crossed her arms, as though talking to children. “You’re out of luck today. Go watch it online, or something.”

 

Regret made itself heard as the staff resigned themselves, but they quickly got back to work, the fuss from earlier already forgotten.

 

“What can I say?” Roxy grinned, shrugging. “That gesture has become iconic. Perhaps the iconic hand gesture.”

 

“It’s literally just a box,” Jade mumbled, before taking a deep breath and sucking as much air as she could to fill her lungs. Then letting it all out, she gazed upon Wayfarer one last time.

 

Jake gave her a strong pat on the back, before clasping her shoulder tight. “Go do what you have to do. We know that it’ll be a success.”

 

“With all the mad science we’ve put in, there ain’t no doubt.” Roxy agreed, giving Jade one final hug. “Don’t miss us too much, kay?”

 

“I won’t,” Jade laughed, before letting go of both of her friends. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

 

And with that Jade ascended, boarding Wayfarer and getting ready to embark on the expedition of a lifetime.

* * *

“All hands on deck,” Tajinder hollered. “Bridge says we leave in half an hour and I want to make sure we have every last detail here down to a T!”

 

“Yes, Captain!”

 

“When we reach our first destination, _if_ we do, I want to make sure that it isn’t us that cocks the whole thing up. Gimel, Winston, Du, three of you will obviously be in charge. Winston, take point."

 

The iguana was the only non-human animal on board, in charge of Mechanical Engineering and the general upkeep of the culture’s physical condition. A heavyset elder wearing enhanced cybernetics and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, he gave a small grunt of acknowledgement before continuing his inspection on the culture’s hardware.

 

Final checks continued until the only door from the floor opened up, and Jade entered, floating into view and then adjusting to the culture’s gravity.

 

Without delay, the entire culture rose to their feet.

 

“Jade,” Tajinder spoke for them. "It is an honour."

 

"No, the honour is all mine," Jade replied, motioning for the culture to sit. “This is an important culture, after all. I wanted to see it for myself before we set off.”

 

She took in the culture - each one similar yet unique. You could glean a lot about how a culture worked, the synergy between its nine members apparent in how they made the space their own. Jade could already tell that Tajinder revelled in a top down command structure, conscious or not - they’d placed their working space above the rest. With the way the members placed their various areas, Jade could have a rough map of the various relationships between members.

 

“You said we are an important culture,” Tajinder questioned, following up on Jade’s previous statement. “I cannot imagine the reason why, as I see ourselves as the same as any other. If it isn’t too presumptuous of me, on behalf of the culture, I would like to ask why you have taken an interest in us."

 

“Well, Captain Bhattacharya.” Jade floated to Tajinder’s level meeting him eye to eye. She seemed to shine with each word. “While every member is important, the main reason I’m here is for her.”

 

The culture followed Jade’s thumb, as it formed a thread of destiny between her, and the flummoxed, grey carapacian hiding behind the chair situated at her workplace.

 

Y blinked two, three more times, almost dumbfounded. And instead of exploding in confusion, all she could muster was a whimper.

 

“Eh?”

 

“Calliope told me all about you,” Jade continued. “You didn’t think we’d forget, right?”

 

Y continued bumbling in shock, even as Anthea guided her up front. But before Jade or Y could say another word, they were interrupted from the sides.

 

“Her?” Nirnah asked, brow furrowed into a deep frown. “You can’t be serious.”

 

“Why not?” Jade replied with her own question, as she drifted back down onto the ground level.

 

Nirnah was half a head taller than Jade, and she moved such that she could look down on the goddess. “As a geneticist, she’s average, and even then her role is a minor one. Unless you wanted a poster child of genetics, and she fits the bill!"

 

“Doctor,” Jade started, her tone dangerous. “Who are you to demean the fine work of biologists and geneticists everywhere?"

 

The indigo-blooded troll remained unflinching. "With all due respect, Jade. I did my doctorate in biochemistry and cell biology before I went on to medicine. I know more than a thing or two about genetics. And I’ve read her files. She’s nothing more than a mistake, in every sense of the word."

 

"How so?"

 

"There’s the obvious skin discolouration,” Nirnah recited, as though this was all common knowledge. "Neither Prospitian nor Dersite, but a literal gray area. Less than a billionth of carapacians have such a mutation. With that comes her being intersex, but she does identify as female. And it’s just the tip of the iceberg. Markers which make her fingers doubled jointed and an expression for six toes on her left foot. G6PD deficiency, a positive testing on markers for at least six different types of cancers, a marker for ALS - she’s sick, and if the Reapers won’t claim her, disease will and she won’t live more than three centuries, with the last being in a state of constant pain.”

 

The clinical, matter of fact way the doctor listed her ways of suffering made Y flinch.

 

Nirnah didn’t stop there. "Other miscellaneous details include three alleles specifying a preference for female generated pheromones, which explains her sexual orientation. Two other markers for expressions of heterochromia which she has covered up with contact lenses. And-"

 

Y's stomach lurched. Nothing stated was private, but for the details of her mutation to be exposed like that and treated like a stain? It made her feel naked.

 

"Look, she’s a walking case of deformities, and she’s not exceptional in her work or anything. She shouldn’t be given special treatment just because she’s way off base from being normal, that’s what I’m saying. Why was she chosen? What privilege does she have, hmm?”

 

This aggressive line of questioning brought on a moment of silence, as Jade pondered on what Nirnah had said, absorbing the information. Y for her most part, stood quivering, Anthea behind her to prevent her from falling over.

 

"I’m going to ignore how most of what you said was loaded, but I’m just going to focus on one thing,” said Jade, when she finally decided to talk. "A mistake, you say?"

 

"Yes, ma’am."

 

"And is that a bad thing?"

 

"Well ma’am,” Nirnah replied, almost breaking into an incredulous chuckle. "The word itself bears negative connotations, does it not?"

 

"I have two things I’d like to bring up,” Jade raised her voice for emphasis, and looked around the culture. “And this I’d like to share with all of you.”

 

Jade began pacing around the culture, one arm behind her back, the other gesturing to make her point. “Without failure, there is no success. This is the indisputable law of big numbers. We try, and try, and try, and we will make mistakes. But these mistakes will pave the way to eventual success, because they are the markers of _action_.”

 

“While playing Sburb,” Jade continued, her feet now hovering off the ground. “One thing was clear, a lesson that the game seemed intent to hammer into us, no matter what session, despite how distorted reality was to the whims of English. And that was to above all, _try_. Mistakes were fine if you learnt from them, and action was rewarded while passivity was punished. That was the nature of growing up we needed to do."

 

"uH JADE?” Mavick piped up. "i DON’T WANT TO TAKE SIDES OR ANYTHING BUT I DO NEED TO POINT OUT YOUR FALLACY. yOU ARE SUGGESTING CASES IN WHICH MANY MANY MISTAKES OCCUR, BUT UH, ACCORDING TO THE CURRENT LINE OF ARGUMENTS, Y IS JUST BUT ONE MISTAKE, IF ERM, SHE IS A MISTAKE, IF THAT’S A BAD THING AND ALL.”

 

“Thank you Mavick,” Jade replied. “And a fair point. But that leads me into my second. Which is that mistakes drive progress. And not just because they are inevitable on the road of determination, or that they help to cancel out paths that you know will not lead you to your desired outcome. Which leads to my second point."

 

Jade now made sure she had both feet planted on the ground, something she had to devote conscious effort to. And then making sure the entire culture still had eyes on her, she continued.

 

"Mistakes are fundamentally, change. They are deviations from the norm, small or large, and they are what creates progress. Evolution is based off entirely on mistakes. Mutations, quite literally. Some mistakes are weeded out yes, but some, become triumphs. My whole point obviously, is to show that mistakes aren’t a bad thing, could be desired in fact."

 

Nirnah Rorxir had a pained expression on her face, her features almost scrunched up like paper in a fist. "This is all too vague and illogical. We don’t call successful mutations mistakes, they’re just mutations, and success is all based on context and timing and-"

 

"Yes, and no!” Jade pointed out, excited. “Context and timing changes as well, right?”

 

“But!” Nirnah’s voice jerked in protest. “She’s different!”

 

“uM,” Mavick piped up from the corner. “i WOULD SUGGEST NOT ARGUING WITH SOMEONE WHO CAN BEND THE LAWS OF THERMODYNAMICS AND CONSERVATION TO HER WILL."

 

Jade didn’t even bat an eyelid. “That’s a poor excuse, even coming from you, sweetie. We’re all different in-"

 

Nirnah slammed her hand onto the wall, the impact cutting Jade off. “She’s an aberration beyond aberrations, just look at her!” She gestured towards Y as though she was an abstract concept that could never be understood.

 

"I am literally a dog, and even without the Green Sun, I am one of the most powerful beings to ever grace reality. Do you know how many questions I get when it comes to these ears and my tail?"

 

"But that isn’t even relevant,” Nirnah protested. “It’s not a fundamental part of you like some sort of consequential disease, almost cosmetic-"

 

"It isn't? Oh honey, you have no idea,” Jade barked, almost quite literally, her ears almost plastered towards her skull in aggression. “I understand you might be a doctor, but there’s no harm in brushing up on your history. Otherwise how would you know, that the dog part of me is Bec, First Guardian of Earth Beta and Emissary to the Green Sun, the primordial source of omnipotence?”

 

“Well yes, but now without the Green Sun-“

 

“How about the fact that Bec was my first, best friend, and my guardian in the absence of my grandfather? How about the fact that being part dog made me all the more susceptible to the Condesce’s influence which allowed her to turn the tables and doom an entire timeline? While we’re on mistakes, let’s talk about how one of our greatest perceived errors in the game, the prototyping of Bec, also turned out to be one of our greatest strengths later on? Let’s talk about how the thing that spiralled everything out of control, that started all of this in the first place, that created _all_ of you, was all because of a mistake?”

 

“This is all-!"

 

"Have we gods grown too complacent? We don’t micromanage you because we trust all of you as sentient beings with the capacity of kindness and understanding beyond us. We were just kids, after all, but now…” Jade’s voice trailed out in disappointment. "This isn’t what Dave would’ve wanted. It isn’t what John would’ve wanted."

 

Invoking the Heir of Breath’s name cast a deathly silence throughout the crowd. No matter what one’s personalities or beliefs were, there was a unanimous respect for the hero who was no longer with them.

 

“I can understand, almost sympathise with your kind of thinking, the whole us-versus-them mindset. But I have very little patience for it.”

 

Jade now flicked open a holographic interface, pawing at the screen and taking out a few files she had archived away, before enlarging them and leaving them on display for all the culture to see.

 

"You’ve listed out all the characteristics she was born with, but have you ever looked past her file to see what characteristics she’s gained throughout her life? Have you taken note of what she’s had to deal with?"

 

“I-“ Nirnah was stumped, unable to answer.

 

“I find her accomplishments and getting to this stage all the more remarkable, because of the discrimination she’s had to deal with and the systemic prejudice against her. She’s had to fight with this, with the kind of thinking you’re showing, and never once has she let up.” Jade began pointing out specific cases, making each one glow in a highlight of her distinct colour. "From her second year, three counts of bullying in six weeks before she was reallocated to another district, without much change. When pursuing her degree, there were twenty seven reported cases by other concerned students when it comes to misconduct by faculty and students alike. At her first job in Carlisle, she was in the bottom twentieth percentile slated for promotion, while being consistently in the top twenty five percentile when it comes to vital signs meant to measure the metrics for an exemplar employee. And then there’s her struggle into getting onto the Wayfarer project. Don’t even get me started on her work in her community-"

 

Y fidgeted uncomfortably on the spot, hands behind her back and thumbs locked with one another, almost twisting them. “With all due respect, Jade, this is all very flattering. I’ve done nothing of the-“

 

Jade held out a finger to stop her there. "

 

Nirnah however, was indignant. "Have you read my file? Mavick’s file? Yehudi’s file? You think none of us have sacrificed and fought and bled to get to where we are today? That none of us have faced people who want to tear us down?"

 

"I am not saying that she’s faced more hardships than anyone else on this ship,” Jade clarified, stern but calm. "I am saying that given our work going forward, Y here is uniquely suited to empathy and understanding in a way that none of you ever could. And all that is a second, when it comes to the quality of her work. That’s a given, which all biologists on board Wayfarer have. Understand?"

 

Jade brought her extended hand out and then balled it into a fist, consolidating all the files before with a flourish she sent the sphere of information to each work terminal of the culture. For the others to peruse if they wanted to.

 

“Look, I’m going to make this simple,” Jade said. "The others and I have placed all of you here for very specific, deliberate reasons, and even if you can’t trust us to do our jobs, at least get it in your head that all your peers around you? They are second to none, whatever else you might perceive them to be. So trust them, despite your reservations."

 

And then she gave one final glance at each member, before letting her shoulders sagged, as she walked towards the engineers.

 

"That will be all I have to say on this matter. Whatever your own conclusions, draw them yourselves."

 

Business-like, as though nothing happened at all, Jade began to chat with the engineers, enquiring about any final matters and doing her routine spot check.

 

“Is your culture’s Alcubierre drive fully functional?”

 

“Yes, Jade,” Winston replied. “Yan Ling and I have confirmed our calculations with the other cultures and done extensive tests.”

 

“Do you need any more samples in referencing the Green Sun? I’m sure Miss Rorxir and Y will be able to extract more from me now and-“

 

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you for offering.”

 

"Nothing is ever a hundred percent, but we are very close to that. Barring exceptional circumstance, I can conclude with near certainty that we will accomplish our mission, and that our expedition will be a success."

 

The mood was sombre but each member managed to give Jade the assurance that the culture was ready for their mission. Tensions ran high but Jade was casual even after her stern scolding, and it helped lighten the mood. As Jade came over to Y, the latter couldn’t meet the eyes of the immortal, and it took a great deal of courage to mumble a word of gratitude. Before Jade moved on, she gave the confused carapacian a hug, and a solid pat on the back

 

Jade felt she might have overstepped her boundaries, but ultimately did not regret her decision. It was a much needed talk, if any of them were to move forward. Wayfarer could not crash before it even took off, and if it took some hard knocks, Jade was more than willing to give them.

 

It was over in twenty minutes, and the culture once again rose to their feet before Jade made her departure.

 

"Thank you, all of you. For all your hard work."

 

Ten minutes left, and the crew would have history greeting them like an old friend, welcoming them into the future.

* * *

The launch of Wayfarer was met with celebration, the likes of which New Earthlings were capable of. Partying had always come as second nature to them, a tribute to the silly tricksters that had spawned them.

 

As the roof of Nexus opened up - from the outside a mere spirographic pinpoint, but large enough given the scale of the building - the music could already be heard reverberating through all three blocks. A thousand drummers accompanied two thousand brass players, musician hopefuls that had failed to be part of a Wayfarer culture. They lined the interior circumference of Nexus, filling all fourteen levels from top to bottom, each ensemble like a culture of its own, but their combined expertise and sound synchronising to form a cohesive, breathtaking performance. 

 

The anthem of New Earth soared through the clouds, engulfing even the sounds of Wayfarer’s engines, as the ground level cleared and the onlookers cheered. Jake and Roxy would not be present for the voyage, and looked on endearingly as the ship took to the skies and sailed through New Earth’s atmosphere.

 

Instead, Terezi had graced the crew of Wayfarer, taking to the bridge as Navigator and Helmsman. Her telepathic cackles and thoughts transmitted themselves throughout the ship, much to the grievances of the many cultures scattered throughout the ship.

 

“1’M SORRY FOR B31NG CRUD3, TH3N 4G41N 1’M NOT,” she chuckled, speaking in her usual cryptic manner. “1 L4Y DOWN TH3 L4W 4ND 1T’S UP TO YOU CHUMPS TO UPHOLD 1T!"

 

Being the Helmsman was very different from back in the days of the Alternian Empire. It was no longer a position subject to slavery and cruelty; the only equipment Terezi had to wear was a helmet that fit like a snug cap which served two purposes - to amplify her Mind abilities, and to channel those throughout Wayfarer. She was chosen for the job after all, due to her otherworldly levels of telekinetic power, especially for someone who wasn’t a God Tier.

 

When asked how she attained her current level of strength, she would reply: “1 4TT41N3D MY 3NLIGHT3NM3NT BY M3D1T4T1NG 1N 4 C4V3 FOR 612 STR4IGHT SW33PS, UND1STURB3D, M4YB3 B3S1D3S L1TTL3 J4N3Y POPP1NG BY TO 3XT3ND MY L1F3SP4N 3V3RY C3NTURY OR SO."

 

There was no telling how much was fact or fiction, but history corroborated with her story. The story of their new civilisation was rife with dark periods where some of the heroes went into solitude, their absence felt throughout the universe. Both John and Karkat were prone to bouts of reflection, disappearing for brief periods spanning months to years. Roxy shut off herself for millennia upon John’s passing, and doubled her stay in the void after learning of Rose’s and Kanaya’s - but not before seeing them one last time. Dave was the most erratic of the lot, everywhere and nowhere at once, almost a phantom lost in time.

 

Terezi herself was in and out, but did have a long millennia of inactivity, her whereabouts unknown.

 

But her psychic ability wasn’t to power the ship, but rather based off the aspect of Mind. To understand its utility, we need to first understand the purpose of Wayfarer.

 

To digress even further, we need to talk about the Green Sun.

 

Scientifically speaking, the Green Sun allowed those tapped into it access to its area of influence. This allowed for immediate transportation from one point in space to another, barring the speed of light or any other limiting factors of the physical world. But this field was not encompassing of all reality - Jade could not access it between sessions. Anything within though, was fair game, and it was abused to large extremes throughout the kids’ and trolls’ sessions.

 

Wayfarer was designed to exploit the fabric of space-time fundamental to reality, based on the same concepts the Green Sun operated on. The goal being to travel to any point in time and space, indefinitely, without the all the problems that come with time - jumping to a separate timeline, dooming timelines, creating paradoxes. It was Jade’s work to once again replicate the properties of the Green Sun and identify the larger blanket that draped across reality, while Terezi was there to act as a focus and filter of sorts, so that the crew wouldn’t become mired in the swamps of Time. Mind managed to see and then narrow down possibilities and consequences that came about through action, and Terezi helped streamline the process greatly.

 

Within minutes, Wayfarer exited the pull of New Earth, rocketing into its Solar System. By now, both the primary and secondary boosters had dropped off, and the nuclear energy had kicked into gear. The three segments of Wayfarer - upper, bridge and lower - started rotating, the top and bottom clockwise, the bridge counter-clockwise.

 

Two shield modules on the tip and the base fired up, creating a plasma field that formed the primary line of defence for Wayfarer, and four more hugging the bridge coated the exterior with a liquid alloy of carbon and platinum, meshed together in a hexagonal lattice. The centripetal force exerted through rotation formed another layer of shielding that also helped in acceleration, and keeping Wayfarer intact as a whole.

 

One after another, each culture started their Alcubierre drives, speculation turned into reality, each drive capable of creating a field that would shape space itself, simulating the effects of the Green Sun. The drives had to activate in a specific order, rehearsed countless times, spreading from the edges of Wayfarer inwards, until the shuttle could only be recognised from the outside as a glowing mass.

 

Wayfarer was reaching a critical velocity at this point, spacetime almost seeming to tear around it, the sheer energy emanating from it causing reality to distort. In a single swift motion, Jade collapsed the ship, shrinking the colossal tower into the size no larger than a pin head, yet conserving its mass. This could’ve been achieved easily through the ship’s own infinitesimalator, but in the interest of saving energy, they opted for the work of gods instead.

 

This caused a Kerr black hole to form, a ring singularity that would extend into a tube, forming a portal that would punch through space-time, the specifics of their destination calibrated by Terezi. As Wayfarer became a wormhole itself, the very thing it would use to travel, everything around the shuttle seemed to evaporated at once, and then it was no more.

 

Wayfarer had gone.

 

At least, from the point of view of any observer.

 

Aboard the Wayfarer, the entire ship seemed to descend into darkness, devoid of any light, the structure of the ship intact but the destination unknown. The shuttle rocked in turbulence, almost as though the annals of spacetime were a rocky, bumpy journey. Causality rewound itself, weaving threads of matter and energy until alas, Wayfarer formed itself again, the fields that had maintained it flickering but serving their purpose. With a bated breath, Jade restored the ship to its original size, and then they waited.

 

For some kind of sign that they had arrived.

 

“TURN TH3 NOZZL3 4 FULL 180,” Terezi barked. “1 SM3LL SOM3TH1NG 4LONG TH3 HOR1ZON.”

 

True enough, a gradient of orange flourished across the bridge, a blinding smear of sun coming into view. Wayfarer adjusted the screens to filter out radiation and make the view less stressful to the eye, and there in the distance, was their destination.

 

But before anyone could cheer, Terezi's nose twitched, and a low hiss escaped her lips. Jade too found her ears perking up, her hairs standing and her mouth formed into a snarl, growling.

 

A reaction to unforeseen danger. There was something, or someone else.

 

"Slow down there, animals. It’s just me."

 

Like rose petals swirling from the deck, a shape of red materialized, taking lazy steps into view. Though he looked like a ghostly figure, there was a radiance in his cheeks, lifted by an easygoing smile while he lounged about.

 

He still had his god tier robes on - the most comfortable pair of magically cleaning pajamas - complete with the crimson cape that fluttered about his feet as he approached. And there were those shades, now transcending even an icon, a legacy that sustained beyond eras, a wall and mirror and irony incarnate all in one.

 

What a sight for sore eyes.

 

"Hey there handsome," Jade sighed, her ears drooping in relief as her bun unfurled and her hair streamed down her shoulders in a cascade. "I didn’t see you get a ticket for boarding."

 

"I’m always here," Dave replied, nestling into the nook between Jade's shoulder and chin.

 

"That's a much less insidious catchphrase," Jade grinned. "Unless it wasn't a reference?"

 

Dave let his body float, legs first as his cape billowed upwards like a fountain. "When it comes to shenanigans, it's always a reference."

 

Jade reached up to grab him by the collar, and there they frolicked, reuniting as though in zero gravity, locked in a heartfelt, playful embrace. They spent a minute or two like this, before Jade lightly brought them back to the ground, their entwined robes draping over a chair like an avant-garde dress.

 

"Well, which you is this?" Jade asked, her tone changed to be more serious.

 

Dave only chuckled. "Does it matter?"

 

"No, but I don’t want to have to deal with mopey, angsty you with no recollection of our time here, or retroactively cement your visit to Wayfarer."

 

"All you need to know," Dave assured, booping Jade on the nose. "Is that there won’t be any problems for you to worry about."

 

“H3Y,” Terezi shouted from her seat. "B3FOR3 YOU TWO 1N3V1TABLY SLOBB3R 4LL OV3R TH3 BR1DG3 1N ON3 OF YOUR ST34MY M4K3OUT S3SS1ONS OR J3GUS FORB1D, FUCK, PL34S3 1NFORM M3 SO 1 C4N K1NDLY 3XCUS3 MYS3LF FROM YOU D3PR4V3D T33N4G3RS."

 

"Wow rude,” Jade replied, droll.

 

“Says the fair dragon lady who opts to look the same as us,” Dave retorted, snapping his fingers in wry humour.

 

Terezi looked half offended. "1 DON’T W4NN4 RUN THE R1SK OF LOOK1NG 4NYTH1NG L1K3 L4TUL4. FUCK, THE N3OPHYT3 ROL3’S FOR H3R, NOT M3!”

 

“So you’ve decided Pupa Pan is more suitable,” Jade nodded. “Fantastic choice."

 

“ST3P OFF, HUG3 B1TCH.”

 

Jade simply flicked a middle finger towards Terezi, but didn’t grace her with a response. She felt tempted to hound her with a floating object a la Kerkae, but felt that it wasn’t worth it. She could tolerate slurs after so long - it had gotten old. She wouldn’t have the same reaction however, if it had been directed at anyone else.

 

“Bluh bluh,” Dave mimicked, planting a river of kisses from behind Jade’s ear to her collarbone. “My witch.”

 

“Oh stop it you,” Jade grinned, keeping his face at arm’s length but otherwise snuggling with him as the blue dot in the distance started to take shape.

 

Dave’s eyes seemed to glimmer behind his shades as he looked on affectionately at the planet. "There they are.”

 

“Yeah,” Jade breathed. “Earth Beta.”

 

Just in the distance, was the planet they had come from, but not quite. The crests and troughs of green, brown and white amidst an ocean of blue indicated that this was undeniably, their planet. Jade’s and Dave’s unblemished home, in a time before it had all been laid to waste.

 

That had always been the impetus of Wayfarer, and therefore its first mission. To save Earth Beta, yet preserve the flow of events leading up to the present.

 

“The snake bites its own tail, and the cycle of stupidity is complete,” Dave grinned.

 

“1F YOU W4NT 3V3N MOR3 CONF1RM4T1ON, 1’LL G1V3 1T TO YOU. TH4T’S YOUR 34RTH 4LR1GHT, 4ND 1’D PUT TH3 CURR3NT D4T3 4S TO B3 1N TH3 M1D TWO THOUS4NDS. 2005-6 4BOUT TH3R3.”

 

“Thank you, Terezi,” Jade acknowledged, still unsure of her own emotions. She’d waited so long for this day.

 

Now Terezi removed the helmet that tied her to her Helmsman duties. “4LR1GHT W3 NOW KNOW TH1S WORKS. 1 C4N G3T TO THE CULTUR3 YOU 4SS1GN3D FOR M3 4ND ST4RT, R1GHT?”

 

Dave gaze a quizical frown, but Jade carried on nonetheless. “Of course. Thank you for your help."

 

“D4MN STR41GHT. BUT 1 GU3SS TH4NKS TO Y’4LL 4S W3LL. 1 SUR3 WOULDN’T B3 4BL3 TO COM3 UP W1TH SUCH NONS3NS3. BUT 1N R3TROSP3CT 1T 1S TH3 B3ST SOLUT1ON TO H34D TO THE SC3N3 OF CR1M3 1F YOU W4NT TO SOLV3 TH3 MYST3RY, Y34H?"

 

Things seemed to click in place for Dave. “You still going?” he asked, concerned. “Even after all this while?

 

Terezi stared at Dave as though millions of years would’ve changed a thing, as though immortality had made him go senile, as though he’d created a gap of understanding between them that threatened to spasm into a gorge, and she would refuse to leap. She bared her teeth and tightened the blindfold around her eyes, but those red ovals seemed to burn like the sun that snuffed out its light. 

 

And then she resigned herself to her lonely quest, marched to the door, shoulders squared, head high. 

 

“4LW4YS.”

 

With that, Terezi was gone.

 

“Well,” Jade kicked up her legs. “All that’s left is to deploy our ambassadors to Earth Beta, and then the other cultures will be on their way. I already have a culture in mind, and they’ve been informed.”

 

“They can act independently?” Dave leaned his arms against the back of a chair, rocking it. “They really can?"

 

Jade frowned. “Keep up to speed, will you? This is yours as well. Of course they can, all 413 of them. That’s the whole point, right?”

 

“It would streamline the whole process, yes,” Dave replied. “But the energy required-“

 

“Wayfarer as a whole runs on nuclear, yes, but the cultures are outfitted with solar panels we haven’t used on the way here. Any civilisation they jump to presumably will be in the vicinity of a star, they can recharge enough for them to leap."

 

“I’m sorry for being mostly inactive,” Dave tousled his hair with his fingers. “I come up with the wacky ideas, but then you’re left to follow through on everything, the nitty gritty details and all-“

 

Jade . “I’ll take that credit, but you’re a mad genius in your own right too. The whole concept of cultures was groundbreaking in how we were going to move forth and enact our mission on a large scale.”

 

“I guess,” Dave conceded, before looking towards the rest of the bridge’s members, remembering that they were a culture of their own, with the largest possible vessel and the creme de la creme on board. “So,” he asked, as he felt the various cultures already starting to disengage from Wayfarer, the very concept of Wayfarer now becoming disintegrated. “Where to next, captain?"

 

“Anywhere we want to, to any time possible.”

 

“Well then,” Dave grinned, his hand hovering over the controls. “I suppose y’all won’t mind if I take us for a spin?”

 

The various crew members who had been silent up till now, voiced out their consent, while Jade continued staring at Dave, her cheek resting on a thoughtful finger.

 

Without a moment’s hesitation, he mashed a few buttons at random, let intuition do the rest, and all that remained of the Wayfarer whirred and fizzled out, leaving for brave new worlds ahead of them.

* * *

“Alright crew, by sheer fortitude or bad luck, we are the ambassadors to Earth Beta. And humans, take note that this planet is as alien to us as any other species."

 

The lone, cylindrical vessel that housed their culture bobbed up and down, caught in the gravitational currents of Earth and now existed in its orbit.

 

“I need a confirmation on our ATC,” Tajinder barked, dealing out orders to get the ball rolling. “And what’s the progress on our preliminary deployment? Updates, updates!”

 

“Active Thermoptic Camouflage is a go,” Winston replied, and Gimel made a distressed sound. After a moment’s of silence, Winston continued on. “I’d give a fifty percent on preliminary deployment.” There were no sounds of protest from Gimel.

 

“Make sure we have two-way radiation shielding as well. We don’t want their satellites picking up any kind of our signals.”

 

Winston gave a salute with his amphibian fingers. “Aye-aye, captain.”

 

Tajinder nodded, before turning their attention to Mavick. “Are our archives up and running? How fast can you extract information on the fly if and when we need them?”

 

“dEPENDS ON THE PARAMETERS BOSS,” Mavick spluttered, but soldiered on before Tajinder gave him the evil eye. “bUT UH, I SHOULD BE ABLE TO DIG UP MOST THINGS UNDER THIRTY SECONDS, WITH MORE OBSCURE INFORMATION TAKING NO MORE THAN SIXTY TO A HUNDRED FIFTY.”

 

“Make sure ninety percent of things fall under twenty, and halve the rest,” Tajinder ordered, not giving a second glance at Mavick throwing up his hands in surrender. “Rorxir, all your tools on standby?”

 

“Ready to go at any moment’s notice,” she replied, smug that she seemed the most competent. “I can have a medical droid shuttled to any part of the locations on Earth Beta we’ve scouted within fifty seconds, ready to administer first aid as my proxy, and if need be, they can be evacuated back here in double the time. Courtesy of Gimel.”

 

The carapacian didn’t even bother acknowledging the credit given to her.

 

“Excellent,” Tajinder remarked. “Listen up! Jade and her crew on Wayfarer’s bridge are scheduled to return two months from now. We do not approach the humans until then, because we don’t want to shake this unsteady, fragile box. Nothing should upset the current events that have played out until now, and we only have Jade and Dave as reference. Therefore even then, we must take special care as to who we interact with, so that we don’t set off any trigger events. We-“

 

Y shut off Tajinder’s nagging, focusing on the task she had at hand. Not that his reminders weren’t important, but they were that - reminders, ones she’d heard countless times. She swiped through her folders, bringing out the documents that she knew would become relevant, its importance just a matter of time.

 

"Remember all of you, we have one shot at this. The moment we fracture time, we’re fucked.”

 

“Question,” Winston brings up. "How are we going to identify and filter prime targets?"

 

Before anyone could reply, a meek voice cut in from the back.

 

“There’s already a solution.”

 

All eyes found their way to Y, a hologram of a materialized program rotating in front of her. She’s prepared, and she just didn’t expect her being necessary so soon.

 

"I don’t mean to be rude, but it is safe to say that many of you might not know about this, especially since this is something only the biologists have worked on. Are any of you familiar with the Nucleic Acid Scanner?"

 

Yeah,” Gimel swerved her chair to face her. “It’s that thing we plugged into Terezi’s helmet, a set of coordinates for her to feed information to us and account for points in spacetime where there have been an abundance of DNA and RNA which would point us in a good direction for life."

 

"Obviously if we want to work on a scale of abstract reality, we’d need someone on par with a God Tier," Y continued. "But if we’re just talking about a planet, I believe our engineers can crank something out of their ovens. I have parameters to account for epigenetic mutation, amongst other factors."

 

Typing a few commands, Y brought up a few more files to share with the others.

 

"We can use this to find the individuals we require. Ectobiology leaves a distinct imprint on their genetic code, and we could filter that out to keep track of the Beta Four’s past selves, make sure the ripples of causality interact minimally with them from a geographical and social standpoint. This tool will save hours of intelligence, especially since it tracks in real time and saves us needing to hack into their satellites or GPS."

 

There was an observed silence for a period of time, the entire culture either deep in thought processing Y’s proposal, or too shocked that she had actually become useful, or both. Y quivered in anticipation, straightening out her coat and making sure her hair was done up properly. No use flubbing anything now.

 

To everyone’s surprise, the first one to speak, was Nirnah.

 

“So,” she started, each word slow and calculated. “You are good for something after all."

 

"Not just good,” Tajinder began, their voice raising into a crescendo. "That’s downright impressive! I had no idea-"

 

Y cut in, wanting to humble her contributions. "My original job was to contribute towards the various innovations and solutions back at Block Bozha, and when the expedition was underway, be part of the team to aid certain clusters of cultures. Communications would be haphazard of course, but that wasn’t my problem. Those of us biologists on this task, we worked with the data scientists to simulate various models for many problems, like-“

 

“Yeah yeah we get it,” Gimel interrupted her, having already understood the technical details, her mind racing on ways to implement the system. “This will change a lot of things."

 

“Hmph,” Nirnah acknowledged, before returning to her work. "Just don’t make trouble for me."

 

Y couldn’t see it from her point of view, but there was respect creeping into Nirnah’s face, if even a smidgen. 

 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you yet again. Captain, I’m requesting preliminary deployment. We need to get a physical lay of the land, collect alluvial samples, specimens and the like. Especially if we want a good data set to start things off as fast as possible."

 

There were no audible protests for Nirnah, except some sonorous clanging from her workstation as she begrudgingly began to place her droids on standby.

 

Tajinder continued to gaze on Y, the latter having to crane her neck to look at her captain. “I’m going to assume you know what you’re doing, yeah? You’ve displayed your technical prowess, yes, but that leap into the practical might not be something I can subscribe my faith to."

 

“Come on, Captain,” Y replied. "I did fieldwork fairly often, even as a student, and I've attended the basic courses and training before being allowed into Nexus. I know the procedures."

 

"I’ll go with her," Anthea volunteered, standing up. “It’s much better with both of us, isn’t it? I’ll keep her in check, Capt, plus this is my speciality, is it not?"

 

There was little Tajinder could do to argue with that, and relented, giving a thumbs up.

 

“Well then, we should get this off the ground ASAP, no more time wasted. Gimel-"

 

"If it’s just the two of you for a twelve hour stint, then we don’t need full functionality,” Gimel observed. "I’ll get something ready within ten."

 

Mavick gave further instructions. “wE’LL BE DEPLOYING YOU SOUTH OF THE TIBETAN PLATEAU, QING ZANG GAOYUAN. mAINLY GRASS PLAINS AND LAND, LITTLE TO NO CIVILISATION. aLTERNATIVE SITE WOULD BE THE ZAMBEZI VALLEY IN ZAMBIA, SLIGHTLY MORE RISKY WITH TOURISTS AND ALL BUT WE SHOULD BE CLEAR.”

 

"On the 0.046% chance you might be compromised, then you’d have to pass off as a human and a…” Gimel trailed off, frowning at Y, before going on. “Another human, with a penchant for cosplaying or something, with a bad case of realistic body paint."

 

"Prepare whatever you need,” Tajinder said. "When Gimel’s bubble is ready, you’ll depart."

 

Anthea acknowledged with a salute, and scrambled about to pack her tools. As Y curated the relevant files, she found a troll inching their way towards her. She didn’t need to turn to find out who it was.

 

“Hey Yehudi,” she beamed, glad to hear a troll she was on good terms with.

 

The troll looked like he hadn’t slept in days, dark prussian circles forming beneath his eyes. His outfit was meant to imitate that of a bard’s, without the crudeness of the original design. Yehudi was normally one with few words, as he tended to stumble on them. But behind his awkward demeanour was a pleasant, kind character. He just had a hard time standing up to others.

 

“Normally the Historians are also the scribes, but I am an artist, and storytelling is well, it is my craft. With my ancestor on board, I am a tad nervous in order to live up to expectations.”

 

Y wanted to remind him that she wasn’t here anymore, that Terezi Pyrope had left on her own culture on her own mission with an agenda that was all too clear to anyone who paid attention. But Terezi had never really been there in the first place, and her presence had everything to do with the mind. Yehudi would have to learn to ease up on his own.

 

"If you d-don’t mind, I’ll just be rattling on. Eases up the nerves,” Yehudi said. Y didn’t give any indication of dissent, so the teal-blooded troll continued on.

 

"I have a great respect for your kind, missus, as a musician. You- your kind produced the best reality has ever had and might ever have to offer. A nomadic spirit who was one with the wind, gave the gods- I mean, the heroes, a performance of a lifetime on the Day of Returning, and then gone. Just like… just like that. They said he was so elusive that he managed to evade eve-, even the Reapers for millennia.”

 

“So is he a legend?” Y asked, compressing her files before transferring them into her watch.

 

"He was a whispering rumour, b-but there was no doubt that he existed,” Yehudi replied with certainty. “An inspiration to us all.”

 

Y gave Yehudi an encouraging bump to his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll do splendid. I look forward to hearing your selection of songs that you’ve choreographed for each monumental occasion!”

 

Yehudi grinned back at Y - it was a tired grin, but the positivity had lifted his spirits, even if by a fraction. He gave her a thumbs up as Y and Anthea made their way to the docking bay, which was just the far side of the culture, ready for deployment. Gimel had already outfitted it with all the tools necessary for the journey.

 

First of all, that portion of the culture was locked out by a wall, before it filled itself with a breathable, oxygenated liquid that was greyish blue. Then the forcefields came into effect, and when it space, it would balloon out into a translucent bubble. Anything meant to be taken along on the trip would latch itself onto the smooth curvature of the expanded sphere, as per Gimel’s instructions.

 

"Hey,” Y asked Anthea, in the midst of all this happening. "Would you like to watch a movie with me? I mean after all this.” 

 

She realised she had sounded a tad too flippant and casual, the invitation coming out of nowhere. "Purely platonic, I assure you!” she said. "I'd just like to get to know you better."

 

“That’d be cool,” Anthea grinned, her words forming a gurgle before she adjusted to underwater speech. “I’m not a very movie kind of person, my tastes are pretty trashy. I mean, my favourite one is Baller."

 

“You mean the one about Scratch? Dapper mob lynchking, had three scars across his face, framed by his white hat? The trolls tell me that we carapacians really bastardised the whole thing.”

 

Anthea couldn’t help but break into a laugh as she floated around, the two of them already being ejected into space. “Yeah, that’s the one."

 

“Mm, no offence, but I’m not really into those hard-boiled, film noir stuff,” Y shrugged, before clasping her hands together. “I’m so sorry!"

 

Anthea dismissed her apology. "How about a classic, then. The Lion King?”

 

It was Y’s turn to smirk. “Oh, which one? There are at least nine, discombobulated versions remastered by Dirk, and the man is the king of irony! He’s switched it up so much, no one can tell which one’s the original and which one’s the abridged ones anymore!"

 

“Well you can ask them once we get to Earth,” Anthea joked.

 

“I don’t think I’d want to know,” Y replied, pensive. “It’d just ruin all the other versions, you know? Like, the others would be seen as inferior ones to be held up to the original, and to me… then the story would just lose its flair. The Lion King is a collection, and each one deserves to be valid. From the one where Simper runs off with his friends and never comes back, so Nala forms a lesbian harem to overthrow Scar, to the Time Loop one, to even the hyena sitcom. I don’t want any of them to be seen as… as a mistake."

 

The two of them exchanged a knowing look, before Anthea nestled into Y. It had been an emotionally exhausting day, and work hadn’t even truly started.

 

"But you can’t deny that the opening theme is amazing, each and every time,” Anthea remarked, gazing into space. "I find it amazing how Dirk managed to create such wildly different variations that is still indisputably the Lion King."

 

"The Circle, then."

 

Yehudi’s mild voice cut in before Y could reply, and it took them both by surprise. The troll seemed to sense this through their earpieces, and immediately followed up on his statement.

 

"I’m s-so terribly sorry if I was eavesdropping. But I’d… I’d like to remind you that you’re hooked up to communications, and the Captain should also be here, but they’re busy. Back to what I was saying though, I was thinking about what piece I should play to send you all off, but it seems you’ve answered it for me."

 

"The Circle sounds like a lovely choice,” Anthea remarked. “It’d be perfect, Yehudi.”

 

“My pleasure,” Yehudi replied, as he cleared his voice.

 

What followed would be the opening notes to the familiar tune, Yehudi’s voice a powerful, soulful baritone. It had been refined through age and practice, the cracks and inflections purposeful, his guttural, raw emotion showing through. It had become an anthem of promise, of cycles and beginnings and endings, of intertwining stories that would never end.

 

And two scientists, listening to this powerful rendition through their earpieces, floated in the silence of space in their bubble, headed towards a home for them to discover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anthem has also been given a complete overhaul alongside Serenade, despite me liking the general direction of how things were going in the original story. Alas, I felt the execution was lacking, and scrapped it, because it was in a word, ‘chaotic’. Too large of a cast with little focus or depth and while it had its merits, just wasn’t something I could pull off. As usual, anyone curious enough to want a peek of the original draft can peruse it. I’d be more than happy to send it over.
> 
> Amongst the four pieces in Symphony Impossible To Play, Anthem has to be my second favourite after the impossibly ambitious Overture, just because of all the right chords it strikes. A perfect ending to signal a new beginning, one with victory ringing high and our theme blaring across the universe for all to hear. Sarabande was a story of our heroes and Serenade one of those after, and the original Anthem had our heroes in the background but eventually I believed that a synthesis of both camps would be a great way to end this minor trilogy. 
> 
> Even now I find Anthem a tad lacking, the weakest of the trilogy. There may be a day when I might edit this chapter, or even give it a complete rewrite for the third time. But until then, here’s to a completed project, and I hope you’ve enjoyed this story.


End file.
